So Long, Lonesome
by Banana71588
Summary: 'These are the moments she will always remember. Her childhood. Her friends. Memories strife with mischief and foolery, even amidst the werewolf crisis; carefree times.' Caroline forms a tight-knit bond with a family that will one day become the Original vampires, none the wiser to the centuries of sorrow that lay ahead for them...
1. Little Talks

**Disclaimer: **I don't even own my brain, The Vampire Diaries owns that, so why on earth would you think I own anything else? I don't.

**A/N****: **I hope peeps will like this! I've been working really hard on it! The gist is: Caroline grows up with the Originals back when they were human. Yeah, that's it. This is a multi-chapter fic and this story is going to be insanely long. This first chapter is just retarded in it's length; I'm sorry please forgive me! This is word vomit, really. I just bled my heart out, and here it is. I don't even know where this junk came from. Blah.

**Credit where credit is due: **A billion thanks to Anastasia Dreams, who listened to me ramble on and on about this fic and then went above and beyond the call of duty and actually betaed it for me. Jeez, girl. She rocks, I love her, and you should go read her aaaaaamazing fic "Lead Us Into Temptation".

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

_**So Long, Lonesome**_

_**Chapter One: Little Talks**_

* * *

_There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back_

_Well tell her that I miss our little talks_

_Soon it will be over and buried with our past_

_We used to play outside when we were young,_

_And full of life and full of love_

- "Little Talks" Of Monsters and Men -

* * *

Caroline remembers that her mother always use to warn her: "You stay away from that Mikaelson boy. He's nothing but trouble." And she'd gaze up at her, all big-eyed and scoff, "Which Mikaelson boy, mama? There are dozens." Which, there were only five of them. But it certainly felt like a dozen at times. Like all those times they would ambush Rebekah and Caroline as they braided freshly picked flowers together, or other such girlish pursuits that the boys deemed were entirely inappropriate. They'd circle them, teasing and prodding in their usual irksome manner, daring them to a race to the waterhole, until the girls grew irritated and finally gave in to their cajoling.

Her mother would narrow her eyes at her. "Well, all of them. But especially Niklaus."

Caroline never listened. Niklaus wasn't trouble, he just tended to bring lots of trouble with him wherever he went. Like that time he'd dared her to try riding one of the wild horses that roamed in the fields, and nearly got her trampled in the process. Or the time he'd taunted that she couldn't climb any tree as high as he could. The incident ultimately ended with a sprained ankle and being forced to lay abed for a week on account of her overbearing mother. Frustrated beyond belief with boredom, Caroline had been only slightly mollified by Nik's rueful visits.

Well, fine, maybe he is trouble. But Niklaus Mikaelson is the kind of trouble that you just can't resist. All he has to do is flash those dimples, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and she will follow him. Always. Nik is her best friend.

After all, he's the one that pulled her away from that spooked horse just in time, when he'd seen the wild look in its eyes just before it reared up. He's the one that carried her on his back the entire way home when she fell out of that tree. He looks after her. They all do really, and it can get quite oppressive, but Niklaus always tends to keep an extra eye on her, like a worrisome mother hen. When she teases him about it he punches her in the arm, lightly, and rolls his eyes.

Nik puts up a tough act. He always has; he always will. But even after all is said and done, through all the years of heartache, Caroline likes to think he cares for her more than anyone ever has. She likes to think he always will.

Her mother just doesn't understand. Caroline needs them. Having no siblings of her own, she troops after them instead, and from the very beginning they took her in with no questions asked. As dusk falls outside, her and Rebekah sit before the fire and braid each other's hair; Nik teaches her to carve into the bark of a tree, patient, and always with a joke or three to bring a smile to her lips; Elijah sits with her on the roof as they watch the sunrise, arms looped around their knees and toes numbing in the frigid morning air; Finn regales her with stories of raids and sea voyages and foreign lands; Kol throws mud-pies at her; Henrik has two big sisters and not just one.

They bicker a lot; well, her and Kol do. Elijah tends to pull them apart by the scruff of their necks when things get too heated, like the tired older brother that he is. They get into far too much mischief running rampant through the woods, shrieking about the draugar. She spends nearly every moment of her life with them, these siblings who have become so much a part of her, from morning sunrise to falling asleep some nights with her nose buried between Rebekah's shoulder-blades.

Looking back, Caroline wonders where it all went wrong; where_ they_ all went wrong. She thinks she knows. And with a pang of regret, she wonders how it all would have turned out, if she'd only done things differently.

* * *

Caroline's earliest memories are vague; shrouded in a fog that distorts most of her old life. Thinking back to when she was just a tiny little bundle of limbs and tangled blonde curls is like looking at an old, black and white photograph; the picture grainy, faded, the edges tattered and worn. She feels that way herself, at times.

Nevertheless, there _are_ images there, in her mind, of those earliest days. She can remember the feeling of riding across Elijah's back as he raced to the waterhole; turning her face to the side with a grin, enjoying each step as it bounced her, and seeing Rebekah perched likewise on Finn's back while beaming right back at her. Nik and Kol would always be just ahead, outrunning them despite all the punches they threw at each other along the way.

She remembers when the boys were first allowed to have weapons. Well, most of them. When Mikael had provided each of his sons a dagger of their very own, he neglected to have one for Nik. The crestfallen look on his face is still a vivid picture that she can bring to mind, even all these years later. As well as the embarrassed flush that colored his cheeks when Mikael asked him why he looked like he was going to cry. She remembers stealing Kol's dagger later and bringing it to Nik as a gift, but he still seemed sad. Not knowing how to fix it, she held his hand instead.

For a long time, she never understood why Nik always had so many fresh bruises marring his skin, while his brother's did not. He was always getting in to trouble, she thought. Always up to no good. She assumed he merely had more scrapes and bruises than the other boys. But then she walked in on them once; Mikael, with his fingers wrapped around Nik's throat, screaming horrible things at him; Nik, struggling to keep his tears at bay. He was only twelve.

Just another reason to hate Mikael. She has plenty of those.

Still, she tries not to focus on the bad times. There were good times as well; a wealth of good times, moments that she keeps tucked close to her heart, always.

* * *

When Caroline is nine, they swore they saw a draugr. It's black as pitch outside, and they're navigating their way through the barrow mounds; the terrain of the dead. The rest of the village is sleeping peacefully, tucked away in their fur pallets; they'd be in so much trouble if their parents knew what they were getting up to. Nik, being fourteen and by far the more experienced one, holds her hand like any good protector should. Rebekah latches onto his other hand, and Kol trails behind them, grasping the back of Nik's tunic tightly.

"It smells like death here," Kol says, ominously. "Elijah told me the stench of decay follows the draugr everywhere it goes." Caroline shivers, and strains her eyes to peer through the surrounding darkness. The shapes of the mounds loom up in all directions. The werewolves are a fact of life here, and death is visible around every corner; it seems there's always someone new to bury, someone traveling into the afterlife and beyond, through the gates of Valhalla.

A twig snaps nearby, and they all freeze. "What was that?" Rebekah whines, and Caroline's fingers claw into Nik's arm. Something hisses in the darkness, and she swears she can see great, big eyes looking at them; yellowed eyes filled with death. Terror is climbing through her chest, making her heart pound fast.

"Who's out there?" Nik calls, puffing his chest out. But even he sounds scared. Kol keeps tugging at Caroline's braid. She hisses at him to stop, but he keeps tugging and tugging until she finally looks that way, snapping at him: "_What?_"

Kol points a shaking finger behind them, and Caroline looks that way. The terror pounding through her intensifies, until it's a near blinding panic that leaves her frozen in place.

It's a figure; a dark, tall figure hunched over and peering right at them. Just paces away. Caroline searches for breath, her lips parting soundlessly, uselessly. The figure's head tilts, and then it hisses at her; it's a horrible sound, rattling in the creatures lungs, and the stench of its decay clogs her nostrils, making her feel dizzy. The scream that's been building in her chest comes bubbling up her throat easily enough after that.

Niklaus swore later that she shrieked loudly enough to awaken the dead laid to rest all around them. It's a piercing, terrified sound, and at the noise Rebekah takes off running back towards the village with never a backward glance. Caroline's legs want to follow her, but she feels frozen stiff, and Kol is using her as a shield against the walking corpse.

"Hold on…" Nik starts, and then trails off, stepping towards the draugr. It flaps its arms at him. "Finn?"

Arms clamp around Caroline and Kol from behind, and they both scream, sure that they will be pulled down into the barrows and left to rot in its deathly embrace. They cling to each other, and the draugr cackles with delight.

Wait…do the draugar cackle? That laughs sounds an awful lot like –

"Elijah," Niklaus chastises, pulling Caroline away and letting her burrow her face into his chest. She gives herself a moment to whimper, as the terror slowly abates. Kol is laughing now too, and telling Elijah he wasn't really scared, he was just playing along, no he did not scream like a girl he just didn't want Caroline to feel bad about being such a baby and –

Finn steps toward her and gives the end of her braid a playful tug, "I really do apologize, Caroline, but you make just the best victim, your face –"

Caroline yells at him then, fear giving way to anger, her voice nearly unintelligible with the tears still clogged in her throat. She tells them they are just the _worst_ big brothers _ever_, and then she flounces off after Rebekah.

She's only made it several mounds away when the sounds of the night leave her quaking again. "Nik?" She calls, her voice small. "Will you come with me?"

He holds her hand the entire way back.

* * *

As a young girl Caroline always pictured herself growing up to be village healer and midwife, like her mother. She remembers a time when she use to follow just a step behind as her mother rounded the village to visit the sick, a basket of herbs and salves dangling from her elbow. Caroline would bring along her own basket and peer down throats with a frown on her face, taking each of their charges seriously.

When her mother let her watch a birthing, she dropped the notion. She never wanted to see anything like that again, and she most certainly _never_ wanted to go through the ordeal herself. For a time after that, Caroline declared she would be a shield maiden.

She remembers the incredulous stare Rebekah gave her, and Kol's raucous laughter. "Oh, Caroline, _you_ are _not _warrior material."

Caroline had scoffed, crossing her arms. "Says who? I _will_ be a shield maiden. There's no need for me to ever marry, or have children."

She'd clung to Nik's arm after that, and pled with him to train her, giving him the patented big-eyed waif stare that always seemed to convince him to give her whatever it was she wanted.

Caroline will never forget their first (and last) disastrous training session.

* * *

"I cannot _believe_ I let you talk me into this."

"Oh, come on, Nik. This will be fun! Now train your warrior princess in the ways of war."

Niklaus heaves an exasperated sigh, but she ignores him as she flits about the numerous weapons he's set out, tapping her fingers against each one and bouncing on her toes before moving to the next one.

"Where would you like to begin, oh ferocious valkyrie?"

Caroline huffs at him, but a smile is tugging at her lips and she points towards the broadsword and toes it carefully with her booted feet. Niklaus sighs again, and ignores her suggestion.

"The dagger it is, then." He says in careful monotone, unsheathing it from his boot. Caroline plants her hands against her hips. "What? No, that isn't the one I said. I want –"

Niklaus tosses the dagger up, flipping it end over end, catching it deftly as it sails back down towards him. He shoots her a grin when her mouth falls open.

"Oh, can you teach me how to do that?" Her voice has gone breathy, as it tends to do when she's been impressed. Niklaus puffs his chest out.

"No, only boys do that."

"Nik!"

Caroline makes a swipe for the dagger, and he quickly backtracks, holding it out of reach.

"Ah-ah. You promised you would be careful, otherwise I won't teach you."

Caroline scowls. Who is he to patronize her? He's only a boy.

"Now, first let me show you how to hold it," he says as he carefully hands it over, handle out.

"I know how to hold it!"

"Funny, because you're holding it all wrong."

"I am not!"

"Most combat is done with a reverse grip, so you can stab more powerfully. See, like this." He adjusts her hand on the blade, her fingers so tiny next to his, and softer too.

"Stab? I'm not going to stab anyone with this!" Caroline whines.

Scenting victory, he tugs the weapon from her hands with a smile and bends down to stick the blade back in his boot. "I knew you would see sense event –"

"I'm going to stab them with _this_!" She crows from somewhere to the left. Niklaus straightens immediately, but she's already heaving the broadsword from the ground, staggering under its weight.

"Caroline!"

She swings the blade up with a grunt, surprised at how heavy it is, and her eyes widen as its weight propels her forward, very nearly taking off Nik's head in the process. He dives to the ground with an _oof_, dodging her, and Caroline promptly drops the sword, spewing apologies as she falls to her knees beside him. She says she's sorry as she forcefully drags his head into her lap and combs his hair back from his face, and _oh, Niklaus, are you hurt _and he shuts his eyes a moment before glaring up at her.

"We are _never_ doing this again." He vows grimly.

* * *

Rebekah tells her it's for the best, as she combs Caroline's hair and deftly braids it down her back. _You're not a warrior princess_, she says. _You'll marry one of my brothers, and we'll have babies together and we'll always be sisters_, she says. Caroline pretends to gag.

"Bekah, I am _not _marrying one of your brothers. Disgusting."

Niklaus chooses that moment to walk in, and he frowns at her. And then Kol pops in and ruffles her braid, ruining all of Rebekah's hard work.

"Kol!"

"She's my future wife, I can do what I want."

"_KOL!_"

* * *

The werewolves are a prominent memory. Everything they do is in some way or another affected by the werewolves. From hiding themselves away in the underground caves on the night of the full moon, to the careful storing of foods. Caroline remembers the winter that the wolves had gotten into their village stores and ransacked it in their madness. They'd come upon the wreckage in the morning, and nearly everything was declared inedible; the dried mutton half consumed, their stores of grain beyond repair, barley and rye coated in saliva.

It was a hard season, spent in half-starvation. That winter a sickness spread among the village, and they lost six good people. Maybe if they had been strong enough to fight it, they would have survived. Their loss was felt starkly.

The memories of the caverns are always there, filled with terror. As a young girl, she would lay curled in her mother's arms, whimpering at the slightest noises. With age came a certain ability to distance herself from the fear; just get through the night, and do what must be done upon the rising of the sun. So instead, Caroline would sit crouched against the wall, limbs cramped, and fret over Niklaus and the way his eyes gleamed with excitement as the howls rent through the night.

* * *

However old, however vague these memories are (older than time itself, it sometimes seems), these are the moments she will always remember, Caroline thinks. Her childhood. Her friends. Memories strife with mischief and foolery, even amidst the werewolf crisis; carefree times, cherished moments. She thinks, no matter how far away she is, no matter the passage of time, she will always look back on these times with fondness. She will carry them in her heart, always and forever, and they will lead her in everything she does. They are her guiding star, her lodestar.

Looking back, she feels nostalgic. She feels pain; deeply, gut-wrenchingly. These are the days that she will always long for, and their dazzling flame is made all the brighter, eternal in her thoughts.

Kol and his waywardness; he had a laugh that could make you smile even on your darkest days. He wasn't always a killer. He once showed remorse.

Rebekah who use to be so gentle; Caroline can feel the softness of her hands in her hair still. Rebekah whose love once burned so bright for all, a wildfire reduced to a candle flame, buffeted by a cold breeze.

Elijah. Caroline thinks Elijah will always be the same. He is timeless; a shelter against the nightmares, a reminder of what they all once were.

Henrik. Alive. _Human_. A feeling that is scarcely a dream now.

Finn, once a figure they could all look up to, even Elijah. Altered to a bitter, husk of a man.

Klaus. He was Nik then; just her Nik. Her best friend. Her memories of him are by far the most painful; they are not dull pangs of nostalgia. Those memories are sharp, to a point of breathlessness. And yet, it seems, they are the most cherished of all.

_You can't go back_, Caroline thinks. _You can never go back._

But oh, how she wishes she could sometimes.

* * *

Caroline remembers the first time she looked at Niklaus and didn't think, _oh, boys, disgusting!_

They'd long since left behind their wild ways, cavorting through the woods and splashing in the waterhole and clambering up trees. Elijah still sits with her on the roof, come morning, though he's often silent. Drawn within, she thinks. She'll curl up against his arm and doze as the sun beams its first rays of light upon them. Kol is still insufferable, but he's developed _some_ level of tact, and he has an eye for the other village girls. Finn is distant, often planning raids with the rest of the menfolk or off on some new voyage; soon enough Elijah will be joining him, and then Niklaus. Her boys are leaving her behind. The thought pains her.

She is, by her mother's standards, a woman (though she doesn't feel it) and old enough to marry (she doesn't want to). She'd been grousing to Rebekah about it, grimacing and flinging her hands about, and at a noise from the woods she had glanced that way.

Niklaus and Elijah were what she heard, both of them laughing and shaking water from their hair as they emerged from between the trees. Niklaus wasn't wearing his tunic, and little beads of water still clung to his chest and ran over the well-formed muscles. Caroline's mouth had run dry, and her face had grown hot with embarrassment. When they arrived at the hut, she hadn't been able to look her dear friend in the eyes, for fear of what he'd read in hers. She'd made her excuses, and fled for home.

* * *

Caroline starts noticing lots of things after that. The way Niklaus smells; his scent is distinctly different from when he was a boy. She can't, for the life of her, quite describe it. She only knows that it's a masculine smell, and it makes her head spin. When he comes near her, smelling absolutely, sinfully _delicious_, it's as if his whole essence envelopes her, and at his nearness she can feel the warmth of his body; it heats her skin and sinks inside of her, until all she can feel is _him_.

The way his voice goes quiet, soft, when he's concentrating on something; like a rough purr. It makes her stomach turn to knots, twisting inside of her and causing a heated discomfort in her guts that she doesn't understand. The way he raises his brows at her when she says something silly, and his full lips peel back in a grin. When he dimples his cheeks at her, those very dimples that she once thought were just so mischievous and _boyish_, his face transforms from handsome to _breathtaking_. Those dimples make her heart skip beats, and when he's smiling at her like that, she can hardly even _breathe_.

She likes to take long walks with him through the woods; he always seems to find a reason to touch her, easing her pathway across the rough terrain; helping her overstep a fallen tree, his chest warm against her back and his arms like a safety net around her as he lifts her body easily. She likes to imagine that he enjoys feeling her body against his too, but she knows it's only a fantasy in her silly little mind.

Nik asks her why she's been so quiet lately. _Where has my talkative valkyrie gone, I wonder, _he'll say, teasingly. _What has been troubling you_, he'll ask, seriously. _Won't you tell me_, he'll plead. Worriedly.

What's troubling her is _him_. And she thinks her mother was always right; Nik is trouble. He makes her heart beat faster, he makes her head dizzy and her stomach churn with nerves. It can't be good. And yet she revels in every moment. So she'll smile at him, and coyly duck her face while batting her lashes up at him, and he'll stare at her perplexed, as if he's not at all sure what to make of the young woman that has taken the place of his best friend.

She doesn't tell Elijah. When they perch precariously on the slates of the roof, silent and gazing far, far away into the distance, she considers it. Opens her mouth with due hesitance, and then looses courage. She worries that he'll tell Nik; she worries that this ridiculous fixation of hers will ruin a friendship that means more to her than the world; she worries that she'll loose Nik. She couldn't bear that.

She doesn't tell Rebekah either, though she suspects that her friend might know. The way Rebekah looks at her sometimes, appraisingly, when Caroline has been admiring the display of muscle as Niklaus crosses his arms over his chest. Rebekah grins, and winks, and tweaks Caroline's nose with a little laugh before walking away.

* * *

"Do you like it?"

Caroline does a spin, pleased at the graceful swirl of dress about her ankles. "Oh, Rebekah, I love it! It's so lovely!" Caroline runs her hands over the soft, woolen folds of the skirt, admiring the deep blue shade.

Rebekah sits her down, tilting her friends head back to begin an intricate braid. She weaves small, violet colored ribbons through Caroline's hair, to match the edging on the dress. She'd dyed the colors carefully, ensuring a perfect match.

"You look beautiful in it, Caroline. I think you're officially a woman now." Caroline's cheeks turn pink. Rebekah really did her justice with the dress; she _feels_ beautiful in it. It perfectly hugs the small curves that her body has started to develop; gives her a casual elegance she has never felt before. She's sixteen today, and she is starting to feel like a woman. A warm glow forms in her stomach at the thought. She wonders when Nik will be home from the hunting party.

Elijah arrives sometime after that, while Caroline is exclaiming over the beautiful pattern of ribbon through her braid, and wishes her a happy birthday with a smile. He's made her very own set of pieces for _Talf_, and promises to play with her later.

Nik shows himself after the meal-fire has been started, and her mother and Esther are both hard at work on food preparations. They've let Caroline and Rebekah sit before the fire and talk, instead of helping tonight. They're each sipping their mead, and giggling at Kol imitating Elijah behind his back, when suddenly Nik is there between them.

"Caroline," he says quietly, and she bumps her shoulder against his. Niklaus smiles. "Would you take a walk with me? Only for a moment."

She nods instantly, because of course! What else would she say to him? Caroline rises, trying to be graceful in her new dress, swaying her hips slightly in the way she's seen some of the village girls do when Kol is hanging around them with his glittering eyes.

Niklaus appraises her new dress with raised brows as they walk, and he very lightly grazes his finger over the violet trimming. Caroline's heart starts to beat faster.

"It suits you," he says softly, and there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at her. "You look lovely tonight, Caroline." She just bumps his shoulder again and mutters her thanks, because she's not sure what else to say to him. At times, these new feelings stirring inside of her breast leave her crippled with shyness when she's around him.

"I – I made you something," Nik continues as he stops her when they've disappeared from view of the others. "It's – Rebekah helped me, with the colors. To match your dress." He explains. He grabs her hand, placing something moderately light in her palm. Caroline peers down at it.

It's a beautiful bracelet, made from several different colored wooden beads. There's some dark blue, like her dress, and some light blue, and a few violets, and some are even white. Caroline exclaims softly as she holds it around her wrist, jutting her hand out in front of her to admire it.

"It's perfect, Nik! You made this?"

He smiles as he reaches forward to help secure it around her wrist, tying the thin leather strips together and tightening until it circles around her at just the right size. His fingers are rough when they graze her skin, and the back of her neck prickles at the sensation. After he's finished tying the bracelet, Nik lifts her hands to his lips briefly, kissing along her knuckles. Caroline feels her knees buckle slightly.

"Yes. Happy Birthday, Caroline."

He's staring very intently into her eyes; it's a burning look. It sears across her flesh and settles a little ball of warmth somewhere in her chest, almost painful but oh so precious. It's uncomfortable, like standing in front of a fire for too long, and heat is rushing to her cheeks, but she can't look away from him.

Nik is still holding her hand in his.

"I – Nik, I –"

Her mother is calling for her; and then Mikael is muttering curses over Niklaus. She watches as Nik's face instantly hardens, and he drops her hand like she's infected with something.

"Let's get back," his voice is aloof now, and it matches the scowl on his face. Caroline wishes she could calm this anger that always seems to be just beneath the surface, eating away at her friend. It hurts to see him so bitter.

Instead she follows him back, silently, and swallows thickly when she catches her mother's eye; she makes no comment, but her mother watches the two of them return with a frown marring her lips.

* * *

The celebration continues long into the night, and Caroline has more mead than she's ever dared before. It's Kol's fault really; he's the one that keeps bringing her tankard after tankard, and his grin gets more devilish with each one. Caroline only smiles at him, and tells him he's just the sweetest boy, and when is he going to find a nice girl?

At some point there's dancing. Some of the other villagers have stopped by, and more tankards of mead are handed out, and then a pipe is whistling into the night, shortly joined by the bodhran. Caroline lifts the hem of her skirt, dancing arm-in-arm with Rebekah, and her head is constantly whirling, even when her body isn't. Her mother has long since retired for the night, and Caroline exults in her freedom.

A bonfire has been started, and Caroline sways in its glow, enjoying the warmth along her skin and the pound of the bodhran, a slow lazy beat. She rakes a casual hand through her hair, and some of her braid unravels and spills over her shoulder, so she tosses her head back, still moving to the beat of the music. Some of the other girls have joined her and Rebekah around the fire, giggling and dancing.

Caroline peers up through her lashes, across the fire pit, straight at Niklaus. He stands apart from the others, leaning against a tree casually, arms crossed. His eyes have been following her since the moment she started dancing; his expression hasn't changed, he still appears aloof and uncaring, but his eyes are burning her. She bats her lashes at him with a grin, and the smallest of smiles catches at the corner of his lips.

* * *

Everything is spinning around her; Caroline closes her eyes with a groan, slumped over on the ground. She hears voices arguing above her. Nik is swearing violently.

"Why in the name of Hel did you give her so much to drink?"

"It's her birthday! I just wanted her to have fun. Come on, she had fun. She's just a little sick."

Caroline tastes something foul in her mouth, burning her throat, and wonders if that's what happened. Had she gotten sick? She breathes in through her nose, and instantly a vile smell assaults her senses. Her stomach turns over, and she wretches onto the ground; tears stream down her face at the violence of her convulsions.

Soon enough hands are holding her hair out of her face, and rubbing along her back soothingly. Caroline whimpers a broken little sob, and then more bile is forcing its way out of her.

"Sssh, you'll be fine," Nik says, and she realizes he's the one holding her hair back. "This will be over soon, sweetheart." His voice sounds so gentle. She hiccups, and then groans when she feels the sickness rushing through her again, and her whole body shakes as she heaves.

When it's over, she slumps back down with a groan, face first into the dirt. She can't bring herself to care.

"That was disgusting!" She hears Kol say, and his voice sounds gleeful.

"This is your fault, get your useless hide in the house."

"I can_not_ miss this, I'll torment her for –"

"KOL! Inside. Now."

Kol's voice disappears. Caroline closes her eyes, trying to shut out the way everything spins so much. Arms lift her up and she moans weakly in protest, but she's already being lifted from the ground, cradled against a firm chest. His arms are tight around her, one looped under her knees and the other around her back.

"Put your arms around me." Nik says softly, into her ear. "No, my neck. Like that, yes. I'll get you home."

He starts walking, slowly, being careful not to jostle her, but the rocking motion makes her stomach churn anyway; Caroline groans again and buries her nose against his throat, breathing deeply. His scent settles her; he smells divine. She sniffs again, running her nose along his jaw.

"Mmm, you smell good, Nik."

Niklaus laughs softly, his breath blowing her hair gently. "You've had too much to drink, Caroline."

She continues on as if he hadn't said a word. "When did you start smelling so good? Why can't you smell like a dirty little boy anymore?"

"It would make things so much easier," she whispers, tightening her arms around him.

"What things?"

Caroline doesn't answer; already, she's started to doze off as she lays curled against the warmth of his chest, and she hears Nik mutter something that sounds like, "never letting you drink again. Your mother is going to kill me."

But she just nuzzles her face into his throat again, murmuring his name in a soft, sweet voice, sighing happily as he holds her tighter.

* * *

When Caroline wakes in the morning, her head is in agony; it pounds in a similar fashion to the bodhran, only it's louder and faster and altogether a vicious, horrible sensation. With a groan she rolls over and presses her face into her arms, trying to swallow the sand that seems to fill her mouth. Her tongue feels coated in it, and her lips are cracked.

"Well, well, well," a voice says. "Look whose joined the land of the living once more." Caroline snaps up and immediately regrets it when the whole world shifts and seems to topple right over on top of her. She falls back limply, and glares at Kol.

"Go away, Kol. I'm sleeping."

"But I just came to give you the good news! Your mother is never letting you out of here alive," and Kol actually cackles.

Caroline panics, sitting up, though more slowly. Her stomach is still churning. "What do you mean?"

Kol preens, shining his nails on his tunic as if it's all thanks to him. And it is! "Well, she caught Nik putting you to bed." He juts him thumb to the entryway of her room. "There's a clay pot out there in pieces that she broke over his head." He's grinning maniacally.

"Oh, gods," Caroline moans, and kicks her legs out to stand up. "I have to talk to her," she says.

She stumbles a little, her legs uneasy, and Kol steadies her. Caroline smiles at him for a moment before she realizes this is all his fault. "You will come with me," Caroline hisses, fisting his tunic and dragging him closer. He looks mildly impressed. "And you will explain how this is _your_ fault!"

Kol splutters at her, and she shakes him for added effect. He scoffs and removes her hands from him, brushing his tunic down as if he's removing something filthy from it. Caroline crosses her arms.

"Do it, or I'll tell all the girls that you've been promising to marry _all of them_ with every intention of marrying _none of them_." She grins at him, and this time it's _her_ grin that's maniacal. Kol pales. "After that, there will be no more girls for Kol."

He curses at her, but follows her from the room nonetheless in search of her mother.

* * *

Kol takes the blame when they speak with her mother; explains that Nik was just looking out for her. She chastises him sharply, and when he begs her not to tell his father, she frowns.

"I've already spoken to Mikael about Niklaus," she says, and Kol's face pales. He looks toward Caroline, panic written across his features, but she's already running for the Mikaelson's home. She knows how he treats Nik, how he despises him so, and she worries over his reaction.

* * *

Rebekah is the only one at the home when Caroline arrives, breathless. Her friend is shaken, pale, and the evidence of tears still line her cheeks.

"He was so angry," Rebekah says, her eyes distant. Caroline worries her hands. "I've never seen him so angry. He said Nik has embarrassed him, that he can't tolerate such a shameful excuse for a son."

"He – he hit him." She says, and her voice cracks. "Again and again. More than I've ever seen him hit Nik before."

Caroline grabs Rebekah's shoulders, forcing her to look at her. "Where is he?" She knows Caroline means Niklaus.

Rebekah frowns and nods toward the woods. "He went that way. But he says he wants to be left alone, he – Caroline!"

Caroline is already running in the direction she pointed to; she knows where he is.

* * *

Nik is sitting on the rock ledge over the waterhole, his legs dangling down and a scowl on his face. His cheek is marred with bruises, a florid stain that spreads over half of his face and over an eye as well. His lip is split open. Caroline's heart flutters with agony, with guilt. She did this. It's her fault, if she hadn't drunk so much mead, if she'd just said no; she should have known better.

She clambers up the rocks, making her way towards him. Nik turns his face away.

"Leave," he says. His voice is a growl, low and menacing. Like a dog that's been hurt and crawls away to lick it's wounds, growling at anyone that comes near. She doesn't heed him; she lowers herself down to sit next to him, peering at his face with apprehension.

"I'm so sorry, Nik," Caroline begins, her voice hesitant, cracked and bleeding raw. "This is all my fault."

"I'll talk to him, I'll go to Mikael and explain –"

Nik rejects the idea vehemently. "No," he barks sharply. "_You _will not go near him." Violently, he clenches his hands into fists. She places a hand over one of them, softly; they're shaking beneath her fingers.

"I –"

She doesn't know what to say. The guilt wracks through her, but she can't fix it. She can't fix anything. She wishes, more than anything, that she could. That somehow she could fix everything for Nik, make it all perfect for him. He deserves perfection.

And Caroline is very far from perfect.

So she presses her face to his shoulder, and whispers how sorry she is, tears brimming in her eyes. Nik stiffens at her touch, frozen for only a moment before he shrugs her off.

"You have to stop that, Caroline."

She peers up at him in confusion, and he finally turns to face her; she could weep at the sight of those bruises, so vivid, so stark along his skin. Caroline lifts a hand to brush her fingers along the edge of them, but he catches her wrist, holding her hand away from him.

She drops it into her lap. "What do you mean?" She whispers, staring down at her fingers. They worry her skirt; she's still wearing the blue dress. The bracelet on her wrist matches it so well, she thinks, absently.

"Just stop. All of it. I don't need you here." His voice is cold, and it lashes against her like a fist to the face. It hurts, to hear him speak thus to her. "I don't need you always looking at me like you do, I don't need you telling me I smell good." Her cheeks grow hot as she remembers that. But his next words leave her pale.

"I don't want you." He says.

'_I'll never want you.'_ She hears.

Her whole world shatters at those words; breaks and crumbles into pieces, and she can't hold the pieces together no matter how hard she tries. She has strength enough to keep the tears at bay, as she nods numbly at him. She has strength enough to get to her feet, to walk away, to get as far away from him as possible. Because once she's far enough away, the tears will be able to come then, and she needs to get them out. She has to, or they will drown her.

* * *

Elijah comes to find her as she's making porridge over the meal-fire. She hasn't had much of an appetite for food all day, but she thinks maybe if she eats, she'll feel better. Well, her stomach may. Her heart is another matter.

"You weren't around this morning," he observes matter-of-factly as he watches her heat the water. Caroline shrugs. "I missed your company." She huffs and shoots him an incredulous look.

"Oh, so _you _want me around?" Her voice is sarcastic, bitter. "At least someone does, I suppose." She throws a handful of oats into the heated water.

Elijah purses his lips, regarding her seriously. "Want to talk about it?" He says. She snaps _No_ and glares balefully at her oats, stirring them around and around. Around and around and around, that's how it always goes. Always around, always chasing, never getting what she wants. Because what she wants, _who_ she wants, doesn't want her back. So she's stuck spinning around and around, running in circles, and it's bound to drive her insane one day.

"Is it Niklaus?" Elijah asks softly, sitting next to her and breaking her thoughts. Caroline freezes, and her oats break from their organized circle and scatter in a billion directions; just like her and Nik. "How did you –"

"You thought I didn't know?" he frowns down at her, with his serious eyes; so kind, she thinks, and full of compassion. Elijah is different from the rest of them. "I know you like I know my sister, Caroline. I see the way you look at him." She flushes, looking away, and he tips her chin up back towards him. "And I see the way he looks at you."

Caroline jerks her chin away and laughs, but the sound is far from joyful; it seems cold, even to her ears. "You're wrong." She says, and she believes it whole-heartedly. "He doesn't want me."

_I don't want you._

The pain is back, it lances through her chest and the lump is rising in her throat again. She thought she'd cried all her tears, sobbing into the bark of a rough tree earlier; the same tree she'd fallen from, on that day that he carried her home, back when he was her best and dearest friend. Caroline swallows the lump painfully, and it sinks down her throat and straight into her heart, where the pain continues to fester.

"Why doesn't he want me, Elijah?" She finally whispers in a broken little voice. When she looks up at him, expectantly, he has his eyes narrowed in thought.

"When – when father hit him, he said some things." Elijah's voice sounds pained. "Every punch he threw was followed with hurtful words. Words that, I'm afraid, Niklaus takes to heart. He always does. He believes every word."

"It had nothing to do with that," Caroline mutters, and the tears are there inside of her, begging to be shed. She won't let them. "He – he said he doesn't want me. He'll never want me."

Elijah is lifting her chin again, his big brown eyes searching hers. "He does, Caroline," he says, earnestly. "He does. You're the whole world, for him. In time, he'll move past our father's threats."

She wants to believe him. She yearns to believe him, so much. Elijah brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. "In time, Niklaus will love you. I'm sure of it."

The tears won't be denied, after that. Caroline burrows her face into his chest, throwing her arms around him, and her tears soak the front of his tunic as she sobs. She's only a girl, after all. Just a silly little girl who is imperfect and shallow and broken; everyone knows that broken little girls will always cry.

* * *

Caroline tells herself that the tears she spilt against Elijah's chest would be the last that she allows herself. After that, Caroline keeps her distance from Nik. When she passes by him through the village they may lock eyes for the briefest of moments, before the both of them look away, keeping their gazes carefully averted.

It feels awkward, to see him. Awkward, and painful. But Caroline is good at shoving the pain away, and letting anger take its place. If she has to speak to him, she is disdainful, verging on offensive; he is distant, cold. The rest of the village watches them in awe, scarcely able to believe that a pair as inseparable as they had been, could now be so hateful towards each other. It seems like everyone is holding their breath, waiting for the anvil to drop, for a screaming match to break out. But it doesn't, because for the most part, she doesn't see him.

Rebekah comes over to her home instead now, because Caroline refuses to subject herself to the torment of seeing Nik anymore than she must. The well-meaning girl had mentioned early on that she had yelled at Nik, told him what a fool he was being, but Caroline had firmly steered the conversation away from him. Eventually Rebekah stops trying to bring him up.

She still sits with Elijah on the roof come morning, but she tells him firmly each time that she doesn't want to talk about it, so he doesn't. He tries to make her laugh, like Nik use to, but when he uses a joke that Nik has already told her the pain gets to be too much, and instead of laughing she finds herself breaking her rule and sobbing quietly into Elijah's shoulder. He doesn't try to tell anymore jokes after that.

Kol disregards her rules entirely, when she sharply tells him to stop telling her about Nik. She thinks he feels bad, that he blames himself, but she knows he didn't really mean any harm on the night of her birthday. Kol is not malicious, he's not his father. He can be a sweet boy when he wants to be, and she knows that's why he keeps bringing Nik up, as he if can somehow fix the whole mess. She tells him again and again to stop, but he won't listen.

"Nik misses you," he remarks one day, as he's helping her carry buckets of water back to the house. Caroline sighs; should she even bother yelling at him anymore? "He asks us about you every day."

Kol screws his face up into a grievous expression and imitates Nik's voice: "Oh, how is my sweetest Caroline today? She, who is the fairest and most beautiful flower, with her bonnie blue eyes and hair made of sunshine –"

"Be quiet, he didn't say that, will you just –"

"How I long to kiss those sweet lips and set to right all of my wrongdoings," Kol continues in a somber voice, "thine love for her is greater even than that which tethers me to this world, and I shall lay her abed and show her –"

"Gods, Kol!" Caroline wants to drop her buckets and plug her ears, but thankfully he stops; mostly because he's laughing too hard at the sight of her flushing cheeks to continue. She wants to glare at him, but despite herself, she can't help the smile that twitches at the corners of her lips. His laugh always did make her smile.

When he's finally calmed down though, his voice softens. "He does ask about you, though." Kol says, and his eyes are more serious than she's ever seen them. "Every day."

"Well," Caroline starts, in her usual we're-talking-about-Nik-so-I-must-be-disdainful fashion. "_If_ he asks about me, and I'm not saying I believe you, but _if_ he does," she smiles a beatific smile up at Kol. "You tell him I said he can go drown himself in the waterhole for all I care."

And she flounces off. She knows she can trust Kol to pass on her message in the most insulting manner possible.

* * *

The days are getting hotter and hotter, and Caroline and Rebekah beg off work for the afternoon to take a swim. They crow with delight as they dive off the rocks in only their under shifts, splashing each other viciously when they breach the surface, and it's almost like they're children again. Back when things were simpler, and altogether less painful. Caroline misses those days; when she voices her thoughts to Rebekah, her friend sighs along with her and they both float along on their backs, staring up at the treetops.

They hear footsteps along the bank, and both of them sink down hastily so only their heads are showing, bobbing above the waterline. It has been an unspoken agreement, no longer swimming with the boys. Those days are long since passed, when they could splash together in the shallows of the water. The girls have become women now; their bodies have developed curves here and there, no longer flat and bony all over as they were when they were children. It would be entirely too inappropriate now.

But it's the boys, nonetheless, and it seems they haven't noticed the two girls treading out in the deep parts of the water. They're shedding their tunics and shoving each other forcefully, and Kol laughs as he knocks Elijah into the water before jumping in after him. Caroline feels breathless when she notices Nik removing his tunic, and her whole body starts to shake. She shoots Rebekah a panicked look when he starts to wade his way into the water.

Rebekah, the dear, sweet goddess, takes matters into her own hands. "Oh, gods! Can't you boys see that we're in here already? Get out!" Caroline hides behind Rebekah and tries to fade into the surroundings inconspicuously.

Nik looks like he wants to do the same. Kol's eyes shoot towards Niklaus and then towards Caroline, and suddenly a conniving smile is spreading across his face.

"Ah, Caroline! How wonderful to see your shining face. Doesn't our girl just look beautiful today, Nik?"

"Burn in Hel, Kol," Rebekah spouts off, gesturing at him rudely. He paddles closer, his eyes gleaming with intentions to dunk her under, and she swims out of his reach, kicking water back in his face. Her maneuver leaves Caroline unguarded.

"Don't worry, Caroline," Kol says as he swims past her, reaching for Rebekah's ankles as she shrieks. "I, ever the dutiful one, passed your message along. Nik has just come to fulfill your wishes."

Caroline turns her nose up. "Oh, yes?" She asks, scornfully. "Come to drown yourself, Niklaus?"

It's the first time she's spoken to him directly in a week. Nik glares at her, swimming closer. She wants to shrink away, but she stands her ground. Or, well, treads water in the same spot. "So sorry to disappoint you," he says darkly, a scowl on his face. "But not today, sweetheart."

Caroline glares back. "I am _not_ your sweetheart," she snaps bitingly, her voice sharp. He's much too close now, and she has only words with which to fight him off. "I never wanted to _be_ your sweetheart, you arrogant _boy_." The others have stopped talking, stopped breathing it almost seems, and are watching them in awkward silence.

Nik's scowl deepens, if possible, and his eyes flash at her. "Oh, I could have sworn otherwise," he says coldly. "With you batting your eyes up at me all the time, like some ridiculous little village wench."

"Nik!" Rebekah chastises, aghast. Both of them ignore her.

Caroline shoves him roughly, stamping down the pain that cut through her at his words. "Well if I was so ridiculous then why did you give me this bracelet? Hmm?" His eyes fall to her wrist, where the bracelet still lies. Angry as she's been this whole time, she hadn't been able to take it off; she even wears it to bed.

For a moment, just a small moment, his face softens. She realizes then how close they are, just a breath apart. His eyes meet hers with so much _regret_, and a stark loneliness that she feels as well; it eats away at her, and soon enough there won't be anything left. But then his face grows hard once more, his eyes stormy.

"It meant nothing," Nik says. "Throw it to the bottom of the lake, for all I care."

It stings, sharply. But she won't cry. Caroline will _never_ cry for him again. "Fine," she hisses, as her fingers fumble with the leather ties. "Fine." And she lets it slide from her wrist and slip into the water. She swims past him, making sure to splash some in his face.

As she leaves, she can hear Rebekah shouting at Nik, but she can't make out the words. All she can hear are his, echoing in her mind; in her heart.

_It meant nothing_.

* * *

"Nik feels bad," Rebekah says. "He didn't mean it."

Caroline ignores her.

"He's so moody now," Kol complains. "Can't you two just sort this out?"

Caroline shakes her head.

"Why don't you come around anymore, Caroline?" Henrik whines. "Nik misses you."

Caroline never knows what to say to Henrik.

"I think he has a death wish," Elijah tells her, worriedly. "He's been picking fights with father."

Caroline feigns indifference.

"What has been going on since I've been gone," Finn asks her. "What has happened, Caroline?"

Caroline just shrugs.

* * *

She's hurt. She's angry with him. She thinks that things will never be the same again. And yet…and yet, in the deepest, most secret part of her, she holds out hope. Hope that one day they can somehow make amends; that maybe he will look at her and feel just as breathless as she does when she looks at him. She carries that faith hidden within her, almost subconsciously.

But one morning Caroline arises, and the talk around the village is all about some new girl. Tatia, they say her name is. Tatia, who is beautiful with her dark locks and big doe eyes. Tatia, who seems already to have an eye on the Mikaelson boys.

With the coming of Tatia, everything changes. Everything. And the hope that Caroline keeps buried is dug up only to be burned to ashes, crumbling in her fingertips and withering away into nothingness.

* * *

**A/N:** So what'd you guys think? I would looove to hear your thoughts! I've had just the WORST day ever, and reviews would make me feel oh, so happy.

Also, follow me on tumblr (come on, please?), I'm banana71588. I only just realized it's spectacular existence a few weeks ago, and I have hardly ANY followers. Sigh. I'll post teasers there for your enjoyment before each updaaaaaate. :)


	2. You took your love and wasted it

**Disclaimer: **Please see previous disclaimer. It still applies. Dammit. **  
**

**A/N: **Oh my gosh, you guys. I'm consumed with love for you all! I can't even BELIEVE the response I got for chapter one. You are all AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE. I would make sweet love to all of you if I could. I'll send JoMo to do it instead, here, take him! You all deserve him! I am so floored by all of you, and because you're just the best people ever for reviewing, I am posting this chapter much earlier than I was intending. Just, you know, please don't hate me for giving you almost nothing but angst for chapter two. I'm sorry. I fail. Frown Emoticon.

I realized later that I didn't even MENTION in chapter one the inspiration for the title of this fic! I especially fail now. So Long, Lonesome is a song by Explosions in the Sky, from the album All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone. Go listen, it's great. It gave me Klaroline feels for this story.

Big time thanks to Anastasia Dreams for being SO supportive and editing this chapter for me! She rocks like you wouldn't believe.

Also...don't hate me for the Tatia. It'll be over soon, I promise. There are worse things to come... *ominous music*

* * *

_**So Long, Lonesome**_

_**Chapter Two: You took your love and wasted it**_

* * *

_You took your love and wasted it, on someone who could care less for you._

_I kept my word, everything I said came directly from my heart, it's true._

_Don't think I won't forget the things you've done, don't think you won't regret forbidden fun._

_I've drawn my line with you in the sand. Right now you are the one, who's unforgiven._

- "Unforgiven" Blood on the Dance Floor -

* * *

Caroline doesn't like her from the start. It seems as if everyone in the village carries on and on, Tatia this, and Tatia that, and oh, isn't Tatia just divine? It makes her sick.

Rebekah doesn't care for her either. She sneers when they find out Tatia has given birth to a child out of wedlock, and calls her something quite crude under her breath. Kol just thinks the both of them are jealous that someone more beautiful has taken up permanent residence in their village. Nevertheless, he keeps his distance from Tatia. A child means commitment, and Kol has no interest in such things.

Elijah is another matter. It seems as if whenever Caroline sees Tatia, Elijah is never far behind; always willing to lend a helping hand, always so eager to help her settle into the lifestyle of their small but hardworking village. When Caroline sits with him on the rooftop come morning, now their talk is filled with all things Tatia. He goes on about her endlessly, if Caroline lets him. She feels the urge to rip her own hair out most mornings; or his.

She doesn't notice the way Nik looks at Tatia; not at first. She's been so preoccupied with trying to ignore him, pretend he doesn't even exist, that it never occurred to her to even consider that he may have eyes for the new doe-eyed girl that has so beguiled the village. Caroline never thought that Niklaus himself would be beguiled as well.

But Caroline can't stay ignorant forever, and it's on the night of the full moon, while they all sit cramped and uncomfortable in the caves, that she notices. She's tucked in a corner with Kol and Rebekah, trying to ignore the sounds from beyond their little safe haven; a feat that is impossible. Kol provides a decent distraction, and even Rebekah laughs softly at his admittedly vulgar jokes. But the howling outside sets Caroline's teeth on edge, and she wants nothing more than to plug her ears and curl into her mother's arms as she use to do so long ago. She tries her hardest to focus on everything else; forget the fear, leave it behind, they are safe here, she tells herself.

She sees Tatia across the cavern, with her child tucked into her chest as she coos sweet words to him. Flickers of light from the torches lining the walls pass over her features, and despite the steadiness of her voice, Caroline notices the fright that has left Tatia looking pale. She also sees that Elijah is sitting quite near her, his hand settled against her back in a calming fashion; Caroline makes a face and looks away. Away, and right towards Nik. She doesn't mean to look at him, she truly doesn't. It's an accident, honest.

But it doesn't matter, because he isn't looking at her. No, Nik is looking at Tatia. He's watching the hand that Elijah has so casually touched her with, and he looks like he wants to rip it off and throw his brother to the wolves.

Caroline doesn't like this; she doesn't like it one bit. She wants to look away, she doesn't want to see the look on his face as he watches Tatia, almost possessively. But her eyes are transfixed to the scene, like a moth to a flame.

It's almost as if Tatia can feel the burn of his gaze upon her, for she begins to glance about the cavern with a little frown stitched across her lips. When she spots Nik looking at her and she catches his eye, he smiles at her in his usual roguish manner, dimples and all. _No, no, no, no, no! _Caroline wants to scream, she's so angry. He's supposed to smile at _her_ like that! Not at this – this –

Tatia glances down, an alluring blush spreading across her cheeks, and Caroline thinks: _good. Look away. Keep your eyes to yourself, you thief. He's mine._ But then the girl is peering back up through her lashes, a coy smile spreading over her lips, and it seems she has eyes only for Niklaus, even as Elijah sits right next to her.

* * *

Caroline keeps her eyes on them after that; she can't help herself. She notices that when Elijah isn't around, Niklaus always is. And instead of lending a helping hand, he's always the one to convince Tatia to shirk duty, to take a walk through the woods as he teases her. When they disappear between the trees, an urge tends to come over Caroline; she wants to stomp her feet petulantly and pray to Thor to strike them down with his mighty hammer, Mjollnir. Instead she'll go somewhere private to sulk for a moment or two, all the while berating herself for being so childish. Caroline can only hope he's not taking Tatia to the waterhole as well. The thought alone sends a helpless sort of agony rippling through her, causes even her _skin_ to prickle with restlessness. And it _hurts_, terribly.

She wonders if Elijah notices. He seems blissfully unaware of anything going on, while he makes calf's eyes at the mere mention of Tatia's name. He's a kind, sweet man, Caroline thinks; any woman would be lucky to have him. He deserves so much better than that _girl_.

But what can she do about it? How could she make him not feel things for Tatia, when she can't even cease her own infatuation for Nik? No one listens to her. Not ever. Not even herself.

She worries, though; worries what will happen if this progresses further. What will this do to Elijah and Nik?

* * *

Her eyes pass over him as if he doesn't exist; as if he is just a part of the scenery, a stump on the ground, a cluster of weeds worthy of nothing but disdain. It infuriates Niklaus, makes his hands clench into shaking fists that he yearns to put to use against the first person that dares try him.

_This is what you wanted_, is what he tells himself. Every time. _This is what you asked for. _

_Wretch, scum, not fit for even a whore_. His father's words are still there, in his head. They creep through his mind, hissing like snakes, and they twine themselves around him so tightly that he feels he won't be able to ever catch his breath. _You leave that girl alone. She deserves a real man, not a shameful dog like you._ The blow of it was staggering, when first he heard those words. And they stagger him still. Worse than his father's fists ever did.

Caroline shines; like a small ray of light, a drop of sunshine sent to him from Valhalla. Nik's ray of light. She used to be his. Sometimes he thinks of those looks she used to send him beneath her lashes, burning him with the blue of her eyes. Sometimes, when he shuts his eyes, he can hear the soft trickle of her laughter as she skips beneath the forest trees; lit up from within as she dances across little patches of dappled sunlight. So much light, too bright to gaze at for long, as if she is the goddess Sunna herself.

She shines. And Nik rots. If Caroline is Sunna, then he is most certainly Skoll; and like the wolf, if he were to get too close, it would cause an eclipse. He is infectious, and she would succumb to his disease until all of her light and beauty had faded from her. His father was right. Caroline deserves perfection, and he will see to it that she gets it.

He misses her though. When Nik sees her in the village, with that little smile on her face, he remembers when they were young; when they use to do everything together. Her laughter reaches him now, as she ruffles the hair of a young lad, and a smile of his own catches at his lips. There are days when he can hardly contain himself from seeking her out and asking her how her day was; she use to prattle on and on about every little detail until he was ready to plug his ears with annoyance, but he finds even that small act is something that he misses.

They can't be friends. He doesn't know how he resisted those yearning looks of hers for so long; every time, it got harder and harder to deny the impulse to claim her lips. If he is near her, it wouldn't take long. He wouldn't be able to contain himself.

His father would beat him again, if that happened. Nik scoffs to himself; as if he cares, let the old man. One day, he'll show him. The worse alternative is that he would kiss her and eventually his kiss would suck her dry. Nik can't allow that. He _will _resist her.

Speaking of resistance, here comes his distraction now. Nik smiles a little wider as Tatia appears next to him, breathless and doe-eyed as usual.

"Tatia," he says, holding his elbow out for her to take. "Fancy a walk, sweetheart?"

Tatia quirks her lips at him and bats her lashes. "But of course, Niklaus. Nothing would give me more pleasure," she purrs. There's a slight huskiness to her voice, a tone that always sends heat flashing down to his groin. She is a most efficient distraction.

Maybe one day, she'll distract him so thoroughly that he'll forget that's all she ever was. Maybe he'll forget that she was never the one he truly wanted.

* * *

He can get lost, kissing her. Lost because sometimes…sometimes he forgets whom he's kissing. He kisses her hard, as if his lips alone can will his wishes to be true, and when her tongue slides along his own Nik moans, throatily, and kisses her all the harder.

_I miss you…_

Nik swallows her whimpers against his lips, he takes everything she has as he melds himself against her. The hand of his that cradles her cheek has strands of hair tangled around it; behind his closed lids he pictures the soft locks to be blonde.

_I can pretend, I can make myself believe…_

Caroline parts her lips from his and speaks, and the whole world tumbles down upon his shoulders as she ruins the illusion. Because it's not Caroline he's kissing; it's Tatia.

"I'm afraid we must cut this short, Niklaus. I must return to the village," she pants, running her fingertips over his abdomen. He grins down at her, despite the crushing disappointment that's taken up residence in his chest.

"And why is that? Stay. I'm sure I can convince you." He kisses along her jaw, but she pushes him away, a stubborn furrow settling between her brows. "Elijah is expecting me."

Nik instantly releases her, jerking back, his eyes flashing with anger. A distraction she may be, yes, but she's _his_ distraction. Damn it.

"Oh, don't look so jealous Nik. It isn't an attractive look for you." His scowl at her deepens. "Honestly, he and I are only friends. I swear it."

Her smile is sharp, like the edge of a dagger, and it can be just as painful as one too.

* * *

Time passes. Between the day-to-day work of the village and preparing meals with her mother, for she's been supping with her more and more lately, Caroline keeps a cautious eye on Elijah, and Tatia, and Nik. There really isn't a thing she can do, but the worry is always there, and she can't help but note how things are progressing between the three of them.

Niklaus avoids Elijah, and glares at him openly when his brother is conversing with Tatia. Elijah never seems to notice; his eyes never leave Tatia as she beams up at him, her smile sweet, her act of dutiful little woman targeted directly for her captive audience. Caroline isn't sure which is the real Tatia; the one that smiles tenderly at her son and plays with him in the dirt; the one that has deep, serious talks with Elijah; the one that flirts coyly with Nik. Caroline isn't sure she wants to know.

She notes the times that Tatia and Elijah seem to be nowhere in sight, and later she'll see Elijah looking flushed; content. She also notes when it's Nik that's missing when Tatia is, rather than Elijah. She tries to not notice when he turns up again; she doesn't want to see the evidence of Tatia's effect on him. She doesn't want to see Nik wearing the same satisfied look that Elijah wears.

She waits with baited breath, always worrying for Elijah. If she worries for Nik, the pain will come back. It will eat her, slowly, like a canker settling in her stomach, in her heart. If she thinks about Nik, all she will be able to see are the things she's missing out on, the looks and touches that she so desperately wants for herself.

The yearning she feels for him will swallow her whole, if she lets it. She can't let it. She won't let it.

* * *

"Must you do that?" Kol grumbles, a frown on his lips. Caroline starts, jerking her chin from where it rests against her folded arms. She scrunches her brows together, throwing him a confused look.

"What?" She asks. She hasn't done anything; they've just been admiring the grazing sheep, watching the little ones totter about on unsteady legs. Caroline can't imagine what it is she's done to stoke his ire; she's been silent the entire time.

Kol rolls his eyes at her. "That face. Stop making it."

Caroline puckers her lips in confusion. "What face?"

"You're looking at those sheep as if they have grievously offended you."

Is she? Caroline hadn't realized. She parts her lips to deny it, but Kol cuts her off.

"And while you're at it, stop making those little lovesick sighs, as well. I've grown weary of them."

Well, now she knows he's being overdramatic. She was _not_ sighing, lovesick or otherwise. Caroline scoffs at him, slapping his shoulder lightly.

"I was not, don't be such a –"

"Oh gods, you mean you don't even realize how pathetic you've been lately?"

"Ugh, why are you so –"

"I mean, honestly, Caroline. You're going about this whole thing the _entirely_ wrong way."

Caroline scowls at him, unimpressed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Go on. Speak plainly, Kol."

Kol sighs as if he's just been asked to explain why he chases after so many of the village girls (it really is the very same sigh, with his eyes shooting skyward and his head shaking side to side very slightly, an expression on his face that says: _I am surrounded by morons. Why _wouldn't _I chase girls, you imbecile?_).

"Caroline, Caroline, Caroline," he chastises, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Have I taught you nothing?" Caroline rolls her eyes up at him, but a smile is already playing across her lips. Kol leans closer, as if he's about to reveal some great secret to her.

"You'll never get Nik's attention away from Tatia like this," he says, sagely.

"Like what?"

"All…miserable and lonely." Kol's whole face scrunches, as if he's tasted something foul. But then he grins at her.

"You need to make him _jealous_." The most conniving smile she has ever seen spreads across his face. She's quite sure there isn't another soul alive that can top Kol's I-have-a-scheme-and-it-is-very-evil face, and not for the first time Caroline suspects that he is actually Loki posing as a human, prepared to wreak all sorts of mischief upon their village. Oh, this boy. He is too much. Caroline tries to shrug him off, but Kol doesn't budge.

"Nik has Tatia, so _you_ should find someone as well. He'll go mad with jealousy and beg for you, then."

Caroline huffs, jutting her chin out. "Oh yes? And who do you propose I use?" She mutters sarcastically. Kol's grin widens as he leans closer.

"Who do you think?" He purrs. And he waggles his brows at her.

"Oh, gods. Gross, Kol!" She pushes his face away from her with a hand and ducks under his arm, shaking her head at him as he laughs. "You are _insufferable_!"

Kol straightens his shoulders almost proudly. "I still got you to smile though, did I not?" He asks, beaming at her. Genuine, for once.

Caroline turns away from him, exasperated. But he's right; she is smiling.

* * *

They help ease the ache, when she's with them; Rebekah, Kol, Elijah. Even little Henrik. She loves each of them, dearly, and she finds that with them the ability to smile comes to her somewhat easier. But her smiles never last forever. When she's alone, the frown creeps back across her face, and the loneliness settles inside of her once more.

It's one of those days. They all have their own chores to do; it's a small village, their settlement, and with the werewolves living amongst them even fewer people decide to settle in it, so they all must pick up the slack. Caroline's in the processes of milking one of their cows, wishing for Rebekah's company (the day always seems to fly by so quickly when they're together) and that's when she hears it; laughter, and the sound of feet tumbling in through the straw that litters the floor of the byre. Caroline flicks her blonde curls over one shoulder, annoyed, and brushes sweat from her brow.

"Oh, Niklaus –" She hears, and then a moan. There's the sound of something hitting a wall.

_Oh no_, Caroline thinks, _Oh please no. I don't want to hear this._

She milks harder, hoping the sound will alert them to the fact that they're not alone, but there's no response. She can hear heavy breathing, and another moan, but this time it isn't Tatia, it's – it's –

Caroline's cheeks burn with shame at hearing this. She stands abruptly, knocking over the bucket of milk in her haste. The cow bleats as it hits its legs, and now that Caroline is standing she sees the figures pressed to the entryway both freeze. It's Nik and Tatia, just as she suspected. He has the girl pressed to the wall, his hands cradling her face, but his lips are no longer attached to hers.

Instead he's looking at Caroline, and his face is frozen in an agonized expression. He looks like he wants to just die. Caroline can relate; she feels the same.

Tatia smiles at Caroline, and steps closer to Nik when he tries to move away from her. "Oh, Caroline! We didn't realize you were in here," she simpers, placing her hand against Nik's chest. Caroline's vision goes red.

"You look as if you've been working hard today," Tatia adds, and she wrinkles her nose somewhat distastefully. Self-conscious, Caroline wipes at her brow again, feeling the dampness there from her labors. She's sure she looks quite a mess, with her braid rumpled and dirt along the skirt of her dress. Nothing like Tatia, looking perfectly beautiful with her perfectly woven dark locks; and her lips swollen from Nik's kisses.

"Caroline's a very hard worker," Nik says, in her defense. Caroline's heart swells. "She's always willing to help." She could just throw her arms around him. She smiles at Nik, hesitantly, shyly, and there's a small beat of a moment; as if the world ceases to be, and it's just her and him in that byre. Tatia doesn't exist at all. He smiles back at her, just slightly, and the ache inside of her chest just grows and grows at seeing him look at her like that again. She's missed him _so much_.

But Tatia interrupts the moment, upset at having the attention drawn away from her.

"Hmm, yes, well. I can think of much more interesting things we could be doing, Nik." Tatia looks up at him suggestively, and Caroline flinches at the use of his nickname. Niklaus is still watching Caroline; he looks like he wants to say more, but Tatia is grabbing his arm, pulling him to her. "Come on, Nik," she breathes.

Caroline turns her nose up. "Yes, go on, don't let me stop you," she says in her haughtiest tone. Nik's face hardens, and then he's grabbing Tatia's hand and pulling her sharply through the opening of the byre.

With them gone, Caroline sits down slowly, righting the bucket; she'll have to start all over now, she thinks with a sigh. Before she does though, she rests her forehead along the side of the cow she sits next to, soaking in its warmth, feeling the softness against her face. Caroline breathes deep, to stifle the tears. She erects a barrier of steel around her mind, to keep back the images in her head; the ones of Nik, passionate and fervent, kissing Tatia. She won't think of that.

(But she will. Those images will keep her awake at night for days, weeks, an endless time of agony. Sometimes…sometimes they still keep her awake. Even now).

* * *

She's a distraction. She's a distraction. _She's a distraction_. Niklaus tells himself that firmly, every time. Every single time. And for the most part, it's easy to remember. His heart has belonged to Caroline for a long time; since he was only a lad, and she his best friend. He doesn't love Tatia, he doesn't _ache _for her.

But then there are the times that he _burns _for her.

It's those times that he forgets everything; he forgets his father, he forgets Elijah (forgets to wonder if Tatia has been doing the very same things with his brother), he forgets Caroline. All he can see, hear, feel, all that he wants is straddling his lap and moaning his name, and the need for her can be consuming when he never meant for it to be.

Tatia. She's a beautiful girl; a beautiful woman. Her dark locks tumble all around him, soft against his face, against his chest, and when her hands wander he can hardly believe that someone so beautiful is touching him. Hadn't his father always said he didn't deserve that?

She's so soft against him, so warm, so vibrant and it makes him feel alive. He's been so lonely, since that day he pushed Caroline away. Alone and bitter and hollow inside. But Tatia makes it go away, when he's with her; she gives him the kiss of life.

He can breathe again, for a short while. He feels the ache ease.

But later he'll see Caroline, always from a distance, always beyond his reach (because that's exactly where he's placed her). The ability to breath escapes him all over again, and the ache punches into his chest fiercer and fiercer each time.

* * *

"Caroline. Have you seen Niklaus today?"

Caroline snorts. "Honestly, Elijah. Are you quite daft?" She shakes her head at him, hardly able to comprehend that he would even _think_ to ask her that. She picks through the herbs she's collected for their stores, separating them into piles. Thyme and wild caraway, a little of mint; she brings some to her nose and inhales the scent.

"Tatia is missing as well," Elijah adds, watching her as she sets the mint in its own pile.

"Oh?" Watercress, parsley. She even picked some berries; juniper berries. Caroline rolls them between her fingertips.

"They seem to disappear together quite often."

Caroline feigns ignorance. "Oh, I hadn't noticed."

She's leveled with a stern look from Elijah as he crosses his arms. "Caroline," he murmurs quietly, in a warning tone. She straightens her piles and notes absently that she hadn't been able to find any fennel today.

"I don't know what you want me to tell you, Elijah," she finally says, looking up at him at last. Elijah uncrosses his arms, stepping closer. Caroline gives him her big eyes.

"I – I do not want to talk about Nik. Can you not understand that? Please just – just leave me alone."

A guilty look crosses over Elijah's face, and he nods. "Of course, I – forgive me, Caroline. It was not my intent to cause you pain." Caroline looks down, schooling her expression carefully, trying hard to not let her own guilt flit across her features. Elijah steps away. "I'll let you get on with your work."

When he leaves, Caroline sighs to herself. He deserves to know what's happening behind his back; he suspects it, and it will be no time at all before he knows for certain. But she can't bring herself to tell him.

_Just a little longer_, she thinks. She can't bear the thought of the devastation this will cause between the brothers. She wishes she could hold if off as long as possible; she wishes she could hold it off forever.

_Gods, Niklaus_, she thinks. _How could you do this?_

* * *

She's not a distraction. She's not a distraction. _She's not a distraction_. He has to make himself believe it. She's his; he won't let Elijah have her. He won't, because Nik needs her.

There's a day that Tatia takes him to the caves. _To be more alone_, she breathes into his ear. He shudders, the burn for her coming to life. So he follows her to the caves, and that day he doesn't even need to remind himself that she's a distraction. She drives every thought from his mind that day; every thought, but the burning need that festers and grows inside of him. He has to have her. He has to. And so she lets him.

* * *

The inevitable comes; Caroline can't hold it off forever. It was bound to happen, she knew that, but despite the fact that she's been preparing herself for this moment, the devastation is no easier to bear. The pain it brings is sharp, for both her, and Elijah.

They're sitting on the roof, and Elijah is avoiding the topic of Tatia for once. He tells Caroline that they suspect Finn should be back soon from the latest voyage the men of age have embarked on, and shortly after that it's possible that they'll be leaving for a new destination. Elijah will be accompanying them this time. Possibly even Niklaus. Caroline isn't sure whether to feel relieved at this news, or crushed.

_I'll miss you_, she tells him.

_I'll miss you both,_ she thinks. That thought cannot be voiced. Not ever again.

She looks out, towards the forest, her thoughts confused, muddled in her head. She doesn't know what to feel anymore; there are too many feelings inside of her, too much heartache, too much bitterness. Caroline sighs despondently.

Through the trees, they come. Niklaus. Tatia. Hand in hand. Tatia's dress is rumpled, and she has little bits of leaves and pine straw in her tangled hair. Nik looks smug, an insatiable look on his face as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her against his chest, there under the trees. Just barely visible; but visible enough.

_Oh, it hurts._

"Elijah, I think we should –"

She tries to divert his attention, but now he's looking that way and he freezes as his eyes catch them. And no matter how desperately she tries to avert her own gaze (she doesn't want to see this, she doesn't want to see this, _oh gods, she doesn't want to see this_), her eyes are drawn as well. She can see them still, even as the tears blur her vision.

Niklaus is kissing Tatia. He pushes her against a tree and kisses her with an ardor Caroline has never known. Tatia's hands fist in his hair, pulling him against her tighter, as Nik's hands run down to her hips.

_Oh, it stings._

Their passion never seems to end; it's all Caroline can see, Nik's arms around her, Nik's lips upon hers, running down the column of her throat, moving down to where the tops of her breasts show above her dress. There is a look of ecstasy on Tatia's face as her hands run over his chest and down to his abdomen.

_Oh, make it stop. _

It's unbearable, looking at them, and wishing so desperately that it was her that Nik was kissing. She wonders what his lips would feel like against hers, how they would feel along her flesh; she longs to feel his hands touching her, for his warmth to surround her. But he's giving it all to Tatia. It isn't fair, Caroline thinks. It isn't fair at all.

So she looks away, because if she has to see the storm of their passion together there under the trees, she'll die. She just knows it.

Caroline looks to Elijah instead, and wishes that she hadn't. He looks devastated, his face pale and his brown eyes dimmed, quenched of any of the light that Tatia had brought to them. At the look on his face, Caroline wants nothing more than to scoop him into her arms and weep. She remembers when he was just a boy, and the way he would hug her when she'd scraped her knees on the rough forest floor, and the way he would carry her on his back. He taught Nik how to do that.

"Elijah, I –"

He looks at her, with his big brown eyes, and she wonders if he sees the same look upon her face. Wonders if, right this moment, they mirror each other exactly. There is no Elijah and Caroline upon the rooftop, there is only pain and loss.

Caroline throws her arms about his shoulders, hugging him to her fiercely, and as his arms fit around her, sheltering her with warmth and safety, she realizes she needed that feeling just as badly as he did.

She holds him in her arms, this man who is a brother to her, her dearest big brother, and he holds her in his. And the devastation is still painful, but somewhat easier to bear.

* * *

The tension is palpable after that, and bound to explode at any moment. Now it's Elijah that avoids Niklaus, barely even sparing his brother so much as a glance. Rebekah hounds Caroline until she finally tells her what they saw; her voice is emotionless, her face expressionless. It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt. She won't let it hurt her anymore.

But something inside of Caroline is fractured, broken in pieces, and the look on Rebekah's face tells Caroline that her friend can see that. When Rebekah tries to put her arms around her, she shrugs them off and states firmly that she's just fine.

If she says it enough, maybe she'll believe it.

Rebekah drops the subject, but Caroline suspects that she'll be yelling at Nik later. When she catches his eyes the next day, for the first time in what feels like forever, he flushes and averts his gaze, and she _knows_ Rebekah did. She rather wishes that the stubborn girl hadn't; she doesn't want Nik to know that she'd seen that moment. It only makes the strain between them worse.

* * *

It finally happens. The moment she's been waiting for, the explosion of violence between the two brothers who once got along so well.

It's nearly dark outside, just the smallest rays of light peeping through between the branches that she and Rebekah walk under. Rebekah is telling her about one of the boys in the village, they both think he's taken a liking to her, and she's going through each and every detail of her latest run-in with him. Caroline has her arm looped through Rebekah's, and she smiles despite the petty jealousy hidden in her heart; she wants to be happy for her, she really does, but she wishes so much, so so much –

The sound of voices yelling nearby cut through her thoughts and Rebekah's words. They both fall silent and glance towards the direction the noises are coming from. They sound angry, so very angry.

"That sounds like –" Rebekah starts, and Caroline nods. "Yes. I – I think they're –" She doesn't finish her thought either. They both look at each other, fearful, because they know what this means. Through some unspoken agreement they unlink arms and run towards the sounds of escalating fury.

* * *

By the time they get there, their boys are already fighting. Nik's lip is bleeding, and one of his eyes is swollen shut. Blood is gushing from Elijah's nose, pouring down his chin. They're screaming at each other, and it's so loud and so furious that the girls can hardly tell what they're saying.

They hear Tatia's name though, and send each other a knowing look. Exasperated, they rush toward the boys (honestly, boys, Caroline wouldn't even think to call the fools _men_ right now), throwing their own voices into the din of noise. Caroline wraps her arms around Elijah's waist, pulling him back, placing herself between them just as Rebekah does the same to Nik.

"Look at the two of you! My brothers! Fighting over that stupid girl!" Rebekah is furious, and she looks like she may start hitting Nik herself. He glares down at her, breathing hard. Caroline places a calming hand against Elijah's chest, but he seems to not need it. At their interference, he had backed off, and Caroline smiles slightly in amusement as he brushes the dirt from his shoulders idly.

"This has to stop. You cannot continue this ridiculous affair, the both of you. Nik, you're coming with me and I will _make_ you see sense." Rebekah shakes him firmly, before throwing a glance at Elijah. "Caroline, you take Elijah." Caroline smiles a little maliciously, grabbing his arm to haul him off.

Nik's eyes glance down towards her hand, and he shakes his sister off, striding forward with a furious glint in his eyes. "Get your hands _off_ of him," he growls. Caroline has never heard such menace in his voice. He grabs her wrist, painfully, and pulls her against him. Her eyes water at the tightness of his grip.

Elijah reacts instantly; the tension between the two still runs high, and he looks as if he's ready to pummel Niklaus again and again. He puts his face barely an inch from his brother's, and his voice sounds like death. "You've caused her quite enough pain, Niklaus. Mind your hands."

Nik releases Caroline, and she stumbles a bit, gasping as the feeling rushes back into her fingers. He grabs the front of Elijah's tunic, bringing his fist back, and Caroline jumps between them again just as Rebekah is yelling for them to stop.

"Now, _boys_," Caroline emphasis the word, glaring at each of them sternly. She places a hand against Nik's chest, careful not to touch Elijah. His heart is pounding, _ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump_, so fast against her fingers. "Enough is enough. Niklaus, you come with me." Rebekah shoots her a surprised look. Caroline rolls her eyes, to cover up her nervousness. "Rebekah, _you_ take Elijah."

Nik is staring down at her, his gaze unreadable, and when she grabs his hand to lead him away his fingers clutch hers so tightly, so desperately.

"Come along, Nik," she whispers, softly. He looks away from her, shame-faced. "Why don't we have a little talk?"

* * *

**A/N:** I hope this crap chapter lived up to everyone's expectations. I'm terrified of disappointing all of you now. Drop a review and let me know! Oh, please!


	3. wanted to make sure you were really okay

**A/N: **Oh my goodness, you guys. I got sooooo much love from so many of you after chapter two, both on here and on tumblr. You are all really, really amazing beautiful people, and I really hope you'll enjoy this because I'll just feel awful if you don't after your spectacular comments! Thank you a billion times. I am amazed that a lot of my favorite authors are encouraging me SO much, and it's just GAH! My emotions!

To the few that had negative things to say, that's your right and if you don't enjoy the story, don't read it. There's no need to come at me with all this negativity about how I should be ashamed to be a woman for writing this. And to the guest reviewer that wrote that, you seriously need to revisit the definition of the word misogynistic, because you obviously don't know what it means.

To clarify, I think a lot of you guys are upset with the fact that Caroline is so weak for Klaus. She's a human girl, only 16 right now (and in the show, she sure as hell got pushed around by Damon a lot as a human). I give each and every one of you my word though, that she'll grow fierce and she won't take Klaus' crap. A main theme to this story is growth and change, and we will definitely see both Caroline and Klaus change _a lot_. She'll be Little Miss Snark one day, I promise you. But it's gotta be developed properly. Just trust me, guys, I have this all plotted out. I know where I'm going with this.

Anyway, enough about that. Thank you a bazillion times to my beautiful beta, Anastasia Dreams. If it weren't for her, I would fail at everything. She wins all the awards! Go read her stuff, yo!

And now...oh man, I hope you guys enjoy...

* * *

_**So Long, Lonesome**_

_**Chapter Three: just wanted to make sure you were really okay**_

* * *

_And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave_

_Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made_

_And like a baby boy I never was a man_

_Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand_

_And then I fell down yelling "Make it go away!"_

_Just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be_

_And then she whispered "How can you do this to me?"_

- "Hate Me" Blue October –

* * *

Deep down, he's still her best friend. He's hurt her, maybe even beyond repair, and Caroline can't forgive him for that. She's _not_ going to forgive him. But somewhere inside is the boy that she used to climb trees with, the one that she could talk to about _anything_. She knows he's still in there, somewhere. Maybe he's just a little lost, she thinks, maybe he just needs a little help. She's worried about Nik; she doesn't want to be, but…best friends and all that, right? And she's always had a penchant for fixing things that worry her. So just this once, she'll set her pain aside; if only for a moment, if only to tell him what a fool he's been.

With Nik's hand in hers, Caroline leads him to her home; his bottom lip is still bleeding and his eye is swelling at an alarming rate, causing even more worry to flutter in her chest. She used to take care of these things for him before, when Mikael's abuse got particularly out of hand, on the rare occasion that Nik would let her. She hopes he will now.

Nik hesitates at the door, looking unsure, his shoulders rigid with tension. "Your mother –" he starts, a little nervously.

Caroline tries for a smile, but it feels awkward. "Tonna's been having her labor pains, so mother is needed there. I don't expect her back until morning." She tugs him forward, her fingers still wrapped around his; they're calloused, rough to her soft touch, but they feel so warm.

He follows her inside, stiffly, his lips pressed in a thin line. Caroline forces him down at the table; she's surprised he's bending to her will so easily, not a single complaint voiced, sitting obediently with a most contrite expression on his face. The remnant of the boy he once was lingers, sending a pang of nostalgia rushing through her. Caroline bites her lip to keep from smiling; she's still angry with him, after all.

She leaves him to fetch a basin of water, snags some fresh cloths as well, and a little jar of a poultice her mother keeps stored for little scrapes and bruises. When she returns to him, Nik is staring down at his feet, jaw clenched tight. The urge to smile strikes her again, but Caroline fights it back. It's a near impossible temptation to resist; hurt and angry as she is, just being near him can be intoxicating.

Setting her items on the table, Caroline pulls another chair around to face him, scooting close. Nik's still staring at his feet, like a little boy facing imminent chastisement from his mother. Rolling her eyes a little, she dips one of the cloths into the water, soaking it and then wringing it out, the trickling sounds loud in the silence of the room, discordant and yet somehow soothing all at once. In her thoughts she breathes a fervent prayer to Freyja for keeping her hand steady as she brings it to his face, very gently swiping away the blood that has dried on his chin. Caroline focuses very carefully on her hand, eyes narrowed in concentration as she drags it up and across his bottom lip. Nik's eyes flutter shut for a brief moment, exhaling sharply against her fingertips. Distracted, she glances up from her hand at the small movement before quickly looking away as his lashes lift.

"So what were you two boys fighting over?" She uses her very best no-nonsense tone. She can feel the tension that shoots through him at her question. With a glance down, Caroline sees that his hands have clenched into fists.

"Nothing," Nik says, quickly, still not looking at her.

Caroline hmms, unconvinced. "How about I take a little guess, then," she pretends to hem and haw over her thoughts for a moment, as if she doesn't already know the answer. "Tatia?" Caroline supplies. She says the name lightly, casually, as if it's just any other name (it isn't), as if she doesn't care what his answer is (she does).

Stubborn as always, Nik tries to turn his face away, but she grabs his chin forcefully, dragging the cloth across his lip once more (transfixed by how full and soft that bottom lip is, it looks so – _NO_). Satisfied that the blood from his mouth has been removed, she dips the cloth back into the basin to clean it. _Trickle, trickle, drip, drop._ The sound is mixed now with his heavy breathing, a cacophonous type of music, indeed.

Tilting his face towards her (_stop resisting_, she hisses, annoyed), Caroline gently runs the cloth over the area around his eye. Stubble lines his jaw, rough against her fingertips; she likes the way it feels. Little butterflies flutter in her stomach.

"Based on your lack of response, I suppose I can deduce that my assumption is correct." Nik snorts, and Caroline narrows her eyes at him.

"Are you not always right?" He asks, and his eyes finally meet hers.

Surprised, Caroline drops the cloth and it flutters to his lap (useless fingers, how dare you). Cheeks flushing with embarrassment, she grabs it quickly and jerks her hand back to his face, a little rougher this time. Nik winces.

"Sorry," Caroline mutters. He tries to smile, but it's more of a grimace.

They're silent while she finishes cleaning the wounds on his face, but she can feel his eyes on her now and it makes her uncomfortable (too much, too searing, he can always read her so well). With her cheeks still feeling slightly hot under his gaze, she sets the cloth on the table and reaches for the poultice. Scooping some onto her fingertips, Caroline dabs it very gently around his eye.

Nik wrinkles his nose. "That smells disgusting," he complains half-heartedly, just as he always has before, back when things were right and altogether far simpler between them. Caroline can't stop the smile that tugs at her lips then. For a moment, it feels just like old times, and when she catches his eye and sees the sadness in his gaze, she thinks he feels it too.

"Oh, hush," she whispers, the words ingrained in her memory; they were commonplace back then, but now – _oh…_ "Don't be such a baby." There's a lump forming painfully in her throat, nearly making the recitation of her expected line impossible. Nik smiles back at her, hesitantly, and everything in her just _aches _(don't look at me like that, please, oh don't). Caroline tears her gaze away, setting the poultice on the table and cleaning her hands in the basin.

"So," she tries again, drying her hands on another cloth and sitting back in her chair. Her voice is stronger this time, full of nonchalance. "Tatia." A disdainful look is thrown his way, and Nik lifts his chin stubbornly.

"That's none of your concern," he says stiffly, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice is colder now, carves a path of destruction across the memories of those old times, forces them back to where they belong; in the past, the very distant past. Caroline rolls her eyes and sits up straighter.

"It is when you're trying to beat Elijah to death over it." Caroline scolds, persistent as ever. "Honestly, Nik! This is getting completely out of hand."

"Why should you care?"

_Oh, no you did not!_

Caroline stands up immediately, her eyes flashing. "Did you really just say that?" She demands, furious. "Of course I care! _You_ were the one that changed things between us, not I." And now Nik is standing too, towering over her, never to be outdone, but she refuses to back down. He scowls.

"I did that for your own good," he growls at her.

Caroline scoffs, disbelieving. "_My own good_?! That's my choice to make, not yours. What in the name of Hel do you mean, _my own good_?"

His eyes stormy, he parts his lips to speak but she cuts him off. "No, forget that. I do _not_ even care anymore. We're not talking about us right now, we are talking about _Tatia_."

Nik's lips snap shut. Caroline huffs, exasperated. "Nik, don't you – don't you realize she is only using you? She does not care about you at all, nor Elijah. It's a game to her, and she doesn't care who she hurts so long as she wins."

He glares down at her. "You think I don't know that?" He mutters, harshly.

Caroline parts her lips to speak again, to convince him by whatever means necessary to just put an end to this whole mess, but then his words register in her mind and she gapes at him, surprised.

"You think I'm that much of a fool?" He continues, while she's at a loss for words. "_Of course_ I know that." There's a self-loathing note to his voice; Nik's always so full of bitterness.

Caroline shakes her head, brows furrowed. "Then why –"

"_Because I need her_."

It stings, sharply, to hear him say that.

_I don't want you_. Those words are always there, in the back of her mind. She can hear the echo of them, even now; harsh, cruel.

He doesn't want her, he's never wanted her; he wants Tatia. He _needs_ Tatia.

Nik turns to leave, but Caroline grabs his arm, fingernails digging into the firm bicep. She exhales sharply when he glares down at her.

"Why her?" She asks, softly. "Why Tatia?" She steps closer to him, and her breath stutters in her throat as his warmth spreads over her. His presence is like a punch in the gut, and a sweet melody in her veins. Addicting, infectious, undeniable. Painful. "Don't you – don't you want a woman that will love you? Don't you want someone that loves _only_ you?"

Nik swallows, thickly, and Caroline is transfixed by the movement of his throat. "I don't deserve that," he says, emotionlessly.

Caroline frowns up at him, moving so that she can grip the front of his tunic. "You do," she breathes. "Of course you do. Why would you think otherwise?"

His face is softening as he looks down at her, his eyes boring into hers. So deeply, so hotly. She is mesmerized by his gaze, frozen in place and hardly daring to breath lest the moment be broken.

"Yes?" Nik rasps, the huskiness of his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "Like who?" He steps closer to her this time, his chest brushing hers, and she feels like her heart is going to explode it's racing so fast.

"I – I don't know, I –"

"Someone like you?" He asks, softly.

Caroline chokes over her breath, eyes widening. Nik's hand curls around her cheek, rough against her skin but oh, so gentle. If she had the ability, she would be gasping for air, clawing for it, but she can't move, she's frozen, and he's so close, and oh – she's missed him. Her grip on his arm tightens.

_He hurt you, he hurt you, he hurt you! Grow a backbone, Caroline._

She listens to herself, for once. Throws him a scoff, square on the chin.

"You missed your chance with me, Niklaus. Do not even _think_ for one _second_ that I –" Caroline cuts herself off. What's the point in even going there now? "Besides, you're the one that said – you said –"

Nik sighs, and his hand falls from her face as he steps back. Caroline's heart aches, fiercely. She wishes she could beat it into submission. Idiotic heart, she thinks, it's useless to her now.

"I know what I said. I just…damn it, Caroline. You're impossible to resist." He looks almost angry. He turns away from her. "I don't know if I can." Nik mutters, almost to himself.

Caroline frowns. "What?" And he sighs again, like she's just asked him to explain the stars in the sky, and he's exhausted at the mere thought of it.

"I don't deserve you, Caroline."

_This foolish, stubborn man!_

"_What_?!" She all but screeches, balling her hands into fists. "Are you telling me you pushed me away because you think you _do not deserve me_?"

Nik doesn't say anything, he just looks at her. It only makes her more furious.

"I cannot believe this," she growls. "You are _horrible_! Do you have any idea how much you – you just – I was so – oh, I can't even _speak_ to you right now!"

He raises his brows, but she stalks away from him, she can't even _look_ at him. To think, he broke her heart over some ridiculous notion of his that he thought he didn't _deserve_ her. Trying to be _noble_? It isn't noble at all, it's moronic. What in the name of Hel was he thinking?

He wasn't, plain and simple. He never thinks, he just ruins everything, breaks her heart and leaves her alone and miserable, and then he goes and falls for some other woman and has to break his brother's heart too. He is _unbelievable_.

"Caroline –"

"I don't even want to look at you right now," she hisses. "Please leave. Go find Tatia for all I care."

She can feel his scowl from across the room. "Oh, I will. She's much nicer to me than _you_ are."

_That's it that's it that's it that's it. That is it!_

Caroline spins back around, stomping towards him violently, her whole body thrumming with furious energy; taut, untamable. He doesn't even have time to react before her hand swings forward to slap him across the face, so hard that it stings her palm. It must hurt him; she hit him on the same side that Elijah did. Nik turns his face back towards her, a red imprint of her palm on his cheek, his eyes almost black with fury. She pulls her arm back to slap him again, but he catches her wrist, tugging her closer until she's trapped against his chest.

"How could you do this," she cries, her voice shaking. "How could you? Oh, _I hate you_!" She hits him in the chest, and then again and again and again, all the while yelling her hatred for him, over and over. _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!_

And he takes it, every hit, every word. Takes it with a hollow look in his eyes, just growing and growing. He's horrible, he is truly the worst man she has _ever_ known, he's selfish and impulsive, and why did she ever even _think_ to have feelings for him? How could she, he's so…he's so _Nik!_

Tears are welling in her eyes, and her voice wobbles even more. She won't let them fall, she won't let them, she can't. Stop it, tears, just go away. She doesn't need them. She's strong enough to fight them.

One of them falls anyway, sliding down her cheek (traitor, she thinks), and Nik's expression turns aghast at the sight of it. His whole face goes pale, leaked of any color, and as her hands still on his chest and another tear drips down, he raises his fingers to it, gently wiping it away.

"Caroline," Nik says, softly, brushing all evidence of the tears from her cheeks. "Don't. Not for me."

Her whole face scrunches as she tries to fight them off. She's gotten quite a bit of experience the last several months, fighting her tears. She just doesn't always succeed.

Nik leans closer, pressing his lips to her cheek, just barely grazing her skin where the tears fall. "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, right against her flesh, in a voice that is hardly above a whisper; it slides across her whole body like the softest fur she's ever felt. Tremors run all through her as his lips brush over her damp flesh again and again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." His arms wrap around her waist, pulling her all the tighter against him, and Caroline has never felt so whole in her life.

She's going to lose the battle with her tears. She can't win this, not now. Not with his arms around her, just like she's always wanted them. Not with his lips pressed so sweetly to her cheek, his breath so warm upon her skin.

"Please let me go," she stutters, tears clogging in her throat. She tries to swallow them, but still they leave their burning sting, insistent, impossible to deny. "Just leave."

Nik's arms tighten around her. "Caroline, I'm –"

Caroline pushes him away fiercely; she can't bear to have those arms around her, knowing that he doesn't belong to her; he'll never belong to her. She turns away. "I want to be alone, Nik. Please go." She won't let him see her break like this. She can't.

"I'm sorry," Nik says again. _No, you're not._

She doesn't hear him leave, but when she turns around, he's gone. And something tugs her heart in a million directions.

* * *

Nik finds himself at the waterhole (and it's almost ridiculous how often they each come to this place, as if it's a safe-haven from everything that is bad in the world, as if the gods themselves have their hand upon them here). He's got a jug of liquor to keep him company; it's stronger than ale or mead, reeks something foul and burns in your throat, but it eases the ache that has settled in his chest. It's nearly half empty now, and he thought the ache would be gone entirely by now.

It isn't.

Her tears are his undoing; he never could bear to see her cry. Even when they were children, all Caroline had to do was look at him with her big blue eyes welling with tears; that little furrow between her brows and the wobble of her bottom lip, her whole face crumpling. He would do _anything_ to make her stop. He can't _stand_ seeing her in pain. _Just tell me how to fix this, tell me how to make this better for you_.

He is such a moron. All this time, he's been pushing her away, thinking it's all for her own good, thinking he was saving her from the undeserving wretch that he is, and all the while she was breaking into pieces. When he held her in his arms, it was almost as if he could feel the break; like she was tiny little pieces of glass, cracked and falling apart, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her together.

All those times she'd scoffed in his presence, every time her eyes slide over him as if he didn't exist; had it all been an act? He needs her, Nik knows that. But maybe…does she need him too?

He hadn't realized; he hadn't known. He'd only ever thought that those looks Caroline used to send him were the beginnings of a crush. Nik thought he could put a stop to it, thought he could save her from the certain heartache he would cause, but he had miscalculated everything. And in his attempt to drown out all thought of her and ease his own loneliness with Tatia's companionship, Nik had hurt Caroline.

He didn't mean to. He _never_ meant to. If he had thought – if he had known, for one second that –

Nik groans and scrubs his eyes, furious with himself. He really has messed things up; just like he always knew he would.

"Oh no, it's you. If you're going to brood, do it elsewhere."

_Kol_. Of course, Kol. Why not Kol? Just go away, Kol. _I will shove my fist in your face,_ _Kol._

And Kol has the nerve to laugh. Nik's whole body vibrates with anger, clawing at his chest. He's feeling too many things now and he doesn't like it. Not one bit (_just make it stop, make those tears go away, I'll do anything, please_).

"What are you brooding about, anyway? Not that I care. Here, let me have some of that –" Kol sits down next to him and swipes the jug of liquor clenched between Nik's hands, but when he takes a swig he immediately splutters, liquor dripping down his chin.

Nik almost smiles. "Too much for you to handle, brother?"

His brother narrows his eyes at the sly lilt in Nik's tone and puffs his chest out. "Hardly." He takes another drink, smaller this time, swallowing it back with only a slight grimace. Kol shoots him the side-eye as he discreetly wipes his chin on the back of his hand.

"So," Kol, also known as _The Imp_, starts. "What's got your armor bent out of shape?"

Nik shoots him a disgruntled look and wrestles his jug back, elbowing his brother sharply when he puts up a fight. Kol appears quite put out for a moment; but it's only moment (more of a blink really), before he's grinning again.

"I think I can guess what it is," he singsongs, tauntingly. Nik growls, low in his throat. His brother is _so annoying._ Instead of answering, he swallows back more of the foul-smelling poison, relishing in the burn. It's an ache that he deserves.

Kol leans back, bracing his palms against the ground, turning his face skyward with his eyes closed and a mischievous grin on his lips. "Caroline," he says, simply. As if all of Nik's problems can be summed up with just that one name (it's true, they can be).

Nik sighs, heavily. The affects of the bottle he's been chugging is starting to cloud his thoughts. His tongue feels looser, almost too big for his mouth, and it spews words out like vomit before he can stop it. "I made her cry."

Silence. He glances over at his brother and catches a disdainful look on his face, brief as usual (Kol has always been good about staying light-hearted, never one to wallow like the rest of them). Kol shakes his head slightly and grabs the jug back. "Well, don't you feel like a man," he says.

Nik flinches.

* * *

They drink. The contents of the bottle Nik has been mourning over all evening starts to taste better and better and before long it's completely drained. It's the first time they've gotten drunk together, and they find themselves three sheets to the wind, hanging on to each other as they stagger back home, feet too big and too clumsy to work properly on their own.

"You know what your problem is?" Kol slurs, his head lolling on Nik's shoulder.

Nik grunts, and nearly crashes them into a tree.

"You weren't born with a brain." And he giggles. _The Imp_ giggles. "But really," he continues. "Why not just spit in the face of father's rules?"

Nik nods in agreement and almost drops Kol in the process. "To Hel with father!"

They can't drag themselves any further, so they end up slumped over outside of the hut, limbs sprawled and covered in dirt.

"She will never forgive me," Nik groans.

"She is _Caroline_, of course she will."

* * *

Caroline looks positively exhausted the next morning, something Elijah knows better than to comment on when she meets him on the roof at sunrise. She peers up at his face speculatively, narrowing her eyes at the bruises that mar his skin. She's use to seeing them on Nik; not Elijah. It's quite jarring, actually. He always seemed too good for such brutish acts like fighting.

But, she thinks with a sigh, that isn't really true. He is a Viking after all, and soon to be on his first voyage. There will be fighting aplenty where he's going, Caroline is sure. She scoots closer to him, bumping his shoulder, not at all ready to see him off. Who will she come to for advice then? Rebekah? She's far too biased on most matters. Kol? Hardly. Caroline snorts in a very unladylike manner.

"Did you and Bekah have a good talk?" She asks, off-handedly. Elijah purses his lips.

"Talk? Rebekah hollered at me and I listened, if that's what you mean."

Caroline laughs at his indigent tone. "Well I hope she made some good points, Elijah. You boys need to see sense, and we will both yell at you until –"

"I love her, Caroline." Elijah says, simply, gazing into the distance.

Caroline frowns. "But she's using you, Elijah, she's –"

"It doesn't change the way I feel. You should know; you love Niklaus."

Caroline instantly scoffs. Oh, he is wrong, wrong, _wrong_! "Please. I have a crush on him is all. I mean, he's…you know, he's very handsome and –" Elijah sends her a disdainful look, and she trails of, blushing hotly. "I don't love him." She adds quickly, looking away.

She doesn't think she does. How can she, considering what he's put her through? But oh, how she yearns for him.

* * *

That's it then. _To Hel with father._ The thought is terrifying at times, but when he sees Caroline and remembers the tears welling in her eyes, reminds himself of how much this is hurting her and not just him, Nik thinks: _She's worth it_.

He isn't sure that he's worth it, though. All he ever wanted to do was protect her, shield her from the contagion that left him unworthy of her. She shouldn't need him, he doesn't want her to need him, but if she – whatever she wants, it's hers, and he'll try his hardest not to – he won't let himself ruin her.

Tatia is to be avoided at all costs. She still slinks about, always a temptation, but he'll deny himself again and again if that will ease Caroline's pain. When Tatia corners him one day, pressing her alluring little body against him, he pushes her away and growls, _No more. I am finished with this_. She huffs and crosses her arms, looking displeased with the turn of events, but Nik ignores her.

He tries to talk to Caroline. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know how to make things better, but Nik tries. (Take whatever you want from me, steal my breath, my life, it's yours; just tell me how to fix this).

And fails every time. Because she avoids him as if he's a plague.

_You deserve this, boy_. The voice in his head sounds exactly like his father.

* * *

"Oh, drat!" Caroline groans, slapping a hand to her eyes; maybe if she doesn't see the fallen buckets, with their milk spilled all across the ground, it will take it back, unmake the horror of all her labors gone to waste. She is _not_ milking another cow this day, no she is not. She's done. Done!

_Freyja, what have I done to deserve this?_ The gods really must hate her.

With a sigh, Caroline bends down towards the buckets, but a voice stops her.

"Oh, Caroline! There you are, I've been looking for – what happened here?"

_Great. _It's Sigurd. Caroline isn't quite sure what to do about Sigurd; he's made it painfully obvious that he worships the ground she walks on, but he's just so…bland. Caroline sighs again, more petulantly this time, before rising to face him with a smile stitched to her lips.

"Oh, hello Sigurd. Just a little case of clumsiness, I'm afraid."

He beams at her, as if she's just said the most enchanting thing, and hauls both of the buckets up. "Would you like some help?" He asks, giving her his big, pleading eyes.

Caroline's lips twitch a little with amusement; he wants to help her milk cows? What a lad. She glances to the side, as if debating his offer, and that's when she catches Nik and Kol standing nearby, watching them. Nik looks absolutely furious, his whole face has gone red and his hands are clenched into shaking fists. Kol, on the other hand, shoots her a thumbs up from behind Nik's back. His grin is absolutely delighted.

Nik takes a step in her direction, his whole body stiff with tension. So Caroline sticks her tongue out at him, childishly, and waggles her brows before turning back to Sigurd.

"I would _love_ your help, Sigurd!"

* * *

"Did you and _Sigurd_ have a nice chat?" Nik spits the name as if it leaves a most unpleasant taste upon his tongue.

Caroline groans despondently, her shoulders slumping. The vendor who has been supplying endless wares for her to ooh and aah over gives her a confused look, taking back the bracelet he was showing her and providing a new one for her to make eyes at. She tries to smile at him encouragingly, fingering the little beads, but really, with Nik breathing down her neck it is almost impossible. He is _exhausting_.

"Take a hint, Nik. I really do not want to see you."

"Come on, will you just speak to me? I only want to apologize, look –"

The nerve! Caroline spins around, poking him in the chest forcefully as she juts her chin up. "I am not interested in your lies, Niklaus. Go bother somebody else with them."

But he just smiles at her, the fiend. Oh, she is really at her wits end with him. She pokes him again, for good measure. "Really. Leave. Me. _Alone_." _Poke, poke, and another poke_. For each and every word. Nik brushes her hand off of him, rubbing his chest slightly, looking a little annoyed.

_Good. Be annoyed. _She spins back around, utterly indigent and blond curls whirling, giving the vendor a pained smile.

Nik hovers against her back, and she shudders at the warmth that tingles all through her. "How can I acquit myself," he breathes, all soft and raspy, right against her ear. Goosebumps slither over her flesh, and Caroline's eyes flutter shut, allowing that feeling of breathlessness to punch right against her chest, just for a moment, just this once. Just for a little while? Oh, please?

_Nik_ –

"You cannot," she mutters, harshly; striding away from him, leaving him behind in the dust that her feet kick up. When she glances back, she sees that he's looking at the bracelets, his expression forlorn. But then a speculative looks crosses his features, and he looks more determined than ever.

Caroline sighs. Honestly. _Just give up already_!

* * *

"You look as if you could use a hand."

It's as if her whole body grows hot and cold all at once, when she hears his voice above her (it always, always does). Caroline is kneeling on the ground, next to a pile of firewood that she'd dropped; she'd taken far too big of a load, too much for her small arms to handle. She'd been struggling with the weight the whole way home, and in the elation of being nearly there she had dropped the whole lot of them.

Caroline glances up, flicking her hair out of her eyes, and glowers at Niklaus. "I'm fine," she huffs. "I have this perfectly under control."

"Under control, yes, I can see that." His voice his mild as he raises his brows at her. Oh, she wants nothing more than to slap him again. Instead, she scoops up what she can of the firewood and leaves the rest behind. She's been carefully avoiding him for days, ducking behind anything in sight when she spots him. Caroline isn't ready for this confrontation; everything in her still feels fragile, as if what little strength she carries within her will fall apart at any moment.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Nik calls out from behind her. Caroline hollers back over her shoulder, "I can come back for those. Good day."

_Good day?_ Oh, gods. She walks faster when she hears him piling the leftover pieces of wood in his arms, but Nik catches up with her nonetheless.

"Caroline, I –"

"Just leave me alone, Niklaus. I have nothing to say to you." Her words are sharp, cold, and at them he falls silent and the awkwardness between them just grows. She feels nothing but relief when her home comes in view. Maybe once she's there, her heart will stop pounding so hard.

When they reach the door, she dumps her pile of wood onto the ground unceremoniously and Nik drops his next to them.

"Caroline," he starts again, and with a sigh she turns away from the door, facing him. Nik looks haggard, as if he hasn't slept a wink all night. His eyes are disheartened but staring steadfastly into hers. Caroline's heart thumps a little harder when she thinks of that night; the feeling of his lips on her cheek, so warm, so soft. So sweet. She swallows thickly.

Nik's brows are furrowed, as if he's thinking very hard about what he wants to say. His lips part, words forming on the tip of his tongue –

"Niklaus!"

They both turn in the direction of the voice, a saccharine, trickling little sound. Tatia is a vision, her hair hanging about her shoulders in soft ringlets, a flush coloring her cheeks. Caroline scowls at her. When she averts her eyes toward Nik, a biting remark at the ready, she notices that he's scowling towards Tatia as well, looking most displeased to have been interrupted. Nik glances back at her, his expression almost sheepish, and Caroline lifts her brows at him.

"Is your mother home?" He mutters, softly. Caroline nods, nonplussed, and Nik sighs with disappointment. "Meet me at the waterhole at sunset," he says, even quieter, his eyes almost pleading hers. Caroline opens her lips to deny him instantly, but he cuts her off. "Please, Caroline?"

Oh, gods. This man. He is impossible to deny, when he gazes at her with that earnest look blazing in his eyes; she never could resist that look. Caroline sighs, closing her eyes for a moment in disbelief at her weakness, before she caves and nods. Nik's whole face lights up, as if she's just given him the world, the dimples on his cheeks pronounced as he grins at her. He leans in quickly, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, just for the barest of moments. Caroline exhales sharply.

Then he's gone, heading in the complete opposite direction as Tatia. The brunette huffs, tossing her hair, glaring slightly at Caroline. In response, Caroline rolls her eyes and shrugs a shoulder before turning away.

But she wonders; what does this mean? Nik, avoiding Tatia? When did this happen?

* * *

Nik is there already, waiting for her, as she makes her way to the waterhole at sunset. He's sitting on the small rock edifice that juts out over the water, his legs dangling over the edge, eyes cast down. It is so reminiscent of that day, when he lashed out and pushed her away, and bitterness rises in Caroline's throat, stealing her breath. She's even wearing her blue dress, the one that Rebekah made her with such love. The only thing missing is her bracelet, she thinks with a pang. Caroline's eyes skim across the water, wondering where it lays within its depths. Her whole body thrums with tension, fingers shaking and heart pounding faster and faster with every step she takes. _Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump_. The sound of it rises in her ears like thunder; it's all she can hear.

Hesitantly, she sits down next to him, and the rock is small enough that their shoulders bump. Caroline folds her hands together in her lap, fiddling with her dress and flinching slightly when Nik clears his throat.

"Caroline," he intones, almost formally. His voice sounds like a rasp, hoarse and exhausted, and self-consciously he clears his throat again. "Thank you for coming."

"Well, I'm here," she says, a little ungraciously, sitting up straighter. "What is it you want to say?"

Nik doesn't speak for a moment, just regards her seriously, and Caroline sighs with more than a little irritation. He'll need to do more than just stare at her to earn her forgiveness, that's for sure. She raises her brows at him, silently expressing: _Go on_. _Try your best_.

"I admit, I am unsure as to what I even _can_ say. I – I'm not –" He cuts himself off, frowning, as if he's displeased with himself. Caroline huffs.

_You better try harder than that_.

"I have something for you," Nik says softly, diffidently. Blindly he reaches for her hand, pulling it towards him, unable to look at her. His fingers circle her wrist, rough but warm, wrong but oh, so right.

"What are you doing?" Caroline tries to tug her arm away, but his grip never wavers, and then he's fitting something around her wrist, tying the leather strips together, securing it so that it fits snugly, and it's – it's –

"My bracelet," she whispers, awestruck, holding her hand up to peer at it when he finishes. It looks the same as ever, the beautiful beads just as colorful, just as lovely. Caroline glances over at him in surprise. "How did you –"

"I fetched it after you and the others left," Nik says with a careless shrug, looking down at his feet for a moment. "I dove for it until sundown before I found it." He clears his throat awkwardly, as if this show of affection is embarrassing for him to admit. A little flush creeps onto his cheeks, just the faintest hue of pink.

It's not an apology, not by a long shot. And even if he's never been the type to give one, she thinks she deserves one. Does she not?

But – but then – the bracelet. An image comes, unbidden, to her mind. Caroline closes her eyes, and across her lids she can see it, clear as day; Nik alone and crestfallen, self-loathing, diving down into the water again and again, never giving up until he found the bracelet he had once made her with such devotion. Hair drenched, eyes stinging from the water, but determined as ever. Nik's always been so very determined. It's one of the traits that she admires about him.

_It meant nothing_, he'd said.

_Throw it to the bottom of the lake_, he'd said (and yet he hadn't let it).

That day, he'd lashed out at her, and maybe it had been rash and maybe he had even regretted it afterwards. Regretted it enough that he'd wasted so much time fishing for a _bracelet_… because he cared? All this time, had he cared so very much? _Oh. _Caroline brings a hand to her chest, where it feels as if her whole heart just cracks and breaks and tumbles into pieces. Splits apart for one last moment, before it's mending, swelling with adoration for him, that all this time he'd kept it and he…he cares?

Maybe…maybe it's enough? For now? She doesn't know. She's just a silly girl with a silly crush, and she forgives everyone way too easily, and he's her _best friend_, she's missed him so very much, and – and –

And suddenly, she feels that if she _doesn't_ touch him she'll break completely. She has to. She just…she _has_ to.

A small noise scratches up her throat, somewhere between a squeal and sob (and she hates it, she really hates it, but she's Caroline and Caroline has always been over-exuberant), and Nik doesn't even have a moment to react before she's throwing her arms about his neck, catching him off guard so that he falls back slightly under her weight. Caroline hugs him to her tightly, fingers digging into his skin as if she cannot hold him tightly enough, it will never be enough. And slowly, hesitantly, Nik wraps his own arms around her waist; securing her to him, pressing her against his warmth, his heat, the softness of her body melding into the hardness of his. The feeling of it crackles all through her, the strangest, most wonderful feeling she's ever had in her life and oh it feels so good to hold him, to have him in her arms. _Oh, Nik_.

Caroline is trembling, shaking violently in his embrace, as if she'll shake apart at any moment. But it's fine, because he holds her so snugly, as if he's holding her together. They can hold _each other_ together, in this one, small moment; Caroline can only hope that they always will.

She presses her cheek to his, breathing softly into his ear and he shudders at the sensation, she can feel it run down the length of his body pressed against hers. Caroline squeezes her eyes shut tight. "I – I don't understand at all, I thought –"

"Sssh," Nik breathes, and this time it's his breath that caresses the shell of her ear, and it's Caroline that shivers all over. "It doesn't matter anymore."

_Aaaaaand…there he goes. Yet another moment, ruined._

Caroline shoves him away, huffing indignantly. "It doesn't matter?"

Nik shuts his eyes briefly with annoyance; at himself, at her, she doesn't know. "Caroline –"

"_It does not matter_?" Not that she's one to brag (she is), but she can mimic his voice fairly well.

"Look, I didn't –"

"What in the name of Hel do you mean, it doesn't _matter_? It matters to _me_, you moron!"

"I just mean –"

"You just mean you are a complete barbarian, that's what you mean!" Caroline shoves him again, so hard that Nik very nearly topples off the rock and into the water. He growls slightly, low in his throat, more annoyed than ever.

"Caroline –" He warns, his lips pursing slightly. She knows this look; when his lips form that shape, that's when his temper is most assuredly set to ignite at any moment.

"Do not _Caroline_ me, you don't own me, gods you are _so_ –"

"Will you be quiet and _listen_ –"

" – infuriating, I really do not like you even a little bit, Kol was right, I will find someone else and –"

"_What did he say?_"

"Oh, that upsets you, does it? Well, maybe if you –" his hands are suddenly grabbing her shoulders, fingers digging into her skin sharply, and Caroline huffs and tries to slap them off. "Unhand me this instant! Nik! _Niklaus_!"

"Damn your stubbornness, Caroline, I did it to protect you!" It seems he's finally furious enough to spit something out other than the lies that she's sure he is full of. Nik's breathing heavily, and his hands on her shoulders are shaking; she's positive it's from anger (Nik and his temper, honestly, he's almost as bad as Rebekah). Not that what he said made any sense at all to her, because it didn't. Caroline shakes her head, baffled, still trying to push him off of her; Nik only drags her closer. She can feel the way the woolen material of her dress snags slightly on the rock they sit on, and her eyes flash.

"What exactly did you think you were protecting me from, you big idiot?" Because what else is she supposed to say to _that_?

Nik's eyes gleam at her, darkly; she's never seen his eyes so dark. One of his hands tangle into her hair. "This." He growls, huskily, before crushing his lips to hers.

* * *

**A/N: **I think I can safely say that none of you were expecting _this _to happen quite so soon, were you? Now you all basically have _no clue_ where I'm going with this story and what I'll be building up to. Oh, my...this is delicious.

Don't hate me too much! I'll try to have the next chapter up by next Friday, but the next chapter is suppose to be happy and I can't write happiness! X_X

Drop a review, tell me what you thought, oh pleeeeeeeeeeease! And follow me on tumblr, I post teases there. The more you ask, the more I'm apt to do it. Ugh, just don't be like Lulu. Asking every 5 seconds. Jeez, Lulu.


	4. is this just madness keeping us afloat

**A/N: **I'm sorry I couldn't update last weekend! I'm going out of town today, and I've had a crazy couple of weeks trying to get things taken care of beforehand. Ugh. I'm the worst. And you guys are the BEST. Your reviews are the most beautiful things I've ever seen in my life, and I want to take them to bed with me and make sweet love to them. Can I have some more, please?

Anyway, here's this junk. Ugh. It's horrible, I was stressing out about this chapter so much because it's suppose to be happy, but I hate writing happiness so I think I failed miserably. Whatever. Oh well. Here it is, I hope you guys like it. Cos I don't. I'm ready for more angst, which will be returning pretty soon. Just FYI. ;)

Thank you to Anastasia Dreams (author of Lead Us Into Temptation, btw it's really awesome) for betaing! She's the best thing ever! And thank you, reviewers, for all your encouragement! If it wasn't for you, I would have been sooo discouraged with this story after those negative reviews!

Chapter title and lyrics are from the new(ish) Muse song, Madness. Which, btw, basically embodies Klaroline throughout this _entire_ fic. It gives me feels, check it out if you haven't heard it yet!

Alright, enough of my rambling...**  
**

* * *

_**So Long, Lonesome**_

_**Chapter Four: is this just madness keeping us afloat**_

* * *

_I can't get these memories out of my mind,_

_And some kind of madness has started to evolve._

_I tried so hard to let you go,_

_But some kind of madness is swallowing me whole._

_I have finally seen the light,_

_And I have finally realized,_

_What you mean._

- "Madness" Muse -

* * *

_Oh. Oh my. _

Nik's kissing her. _He's kissing her_.

It's the last thing Caroline had expected, when she agreed to meet with him. She'd expected…well, she doesn't know what. Not this. Was this his intention all along?

Caroline should be angry; she _should_ be furious. She's had fantasies about this moment for so, so long, and even though she never really believed it would actually happen, she'd always thought that maybe if it did…it would be perfect. The perfect moment, no arguing, no anger, no underlying pang that throbs through her at the mere thought of Tatia and the fact the he kissed _her _first.

But they _had _been arguing. They _were _angry. They _are_ angry? Is she still angry? Caroline isn't sure. Because even if this isn't the perfect moment, even if he kind of has the worst timing in the world, even if she _hates, hates, hates_ him right now…it's – he's – he's kissing her.

Her eyes, which until that moment had been wide open with shock the instant Nik kissed her, flutter before sliding shut, curtailing her view of his lashes feathered over his cheekbones. It's not the perfect moment, but…his lips are so soft, so warm, absolutely luscious against hers. Nik makes a little humming sound; she can feel it on her lips. He tilts his chin ever so slightly, pressing more firmly against her mouth, and his hands finally leave her shoulders, rising to cradle her face. The anger whooshes right out of her in one sweeping rush, replaced with…she's not sure what.

But Caroline is glowing; she can feel the warmth and the light well up inside of her, overflowing within her (it overflows so much that she thinks it might even spill out of her), and all that she can even begin to think is: _he is kissing her_! Nik. Oh, Nik. It's her first; her very first kiss, and it's nothing like she imagined yet everything that she wished it could be. It's not perfect, but somehow that _makes_ it perfect. Because it's _them_. Through all of the heartache, all of the anger and bitterness, somehow they still fit.

_Aren't we a pair, you and I_?

Caroline isn't quite sure what to do with her own hands; should she touch him? Should she just…sit there? That doesn't seem right. Slowly, she places them against him chest, where his heart is pounding just as quickly as hers is. When Nik's lips part and he traces his tongue very lightly over her bottom lip, her fingers curl until they're gripping his tunic tightly, and she gasps.

Nik swallows her little gasp right up, and with the parting of her lips his tongue slides between them to touch hers, wet and hot and so very foreign to her. With her cheeks held between his palms, he angles her head some, his nose brushing alongside hers as he deepens the kiss. Caroline hesitantly brushes against his tongue with her own, and Nik groans against her lips, a helpless sounding noise, and one of his hands leave her face so that his arm can curl around her waist, hauling her up against him as he leans back slightly, leaving her sprawled halfway across his chest.

Her hands are crushed between their bodies, so she slowly glides them up, twining them around his neck and digging her fingers into his hair. Nik hums again with approval, and at the sound something delicious twists through her abdomen and sinks lower, searing her insides. She _likes_ that sound. The sensation it sends trembling through her makes her feel hot all over. It _explodes_ across her; _they _explode. It's him and it's her and they're kissing and they're on fire; she _knows _he has to feel it too. How could he not? And it _is _perfect. It is.

Caroline leans more fully against him, pressing her chest to his, thrilled beyond belief at how it feels; the hardness of his body against the softness of her own, her breasts swelling against him with each breath she takes, each breath that he steals and makes his own. Nik murmurs her name softly with his lips still pressed to hers, his voice a quiet rasp, and very gently bites down on her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. (_Oh._)

It's too much. It feels…indescribable. Beyond thought, beyond bliss, and it carries her away on tides of passion; waves that crest with pleasure and ebb with heat and flow with an all-consuming desire. _He_ carries her away. With every touch (_so fervent_), every sound (_so desperate_), each kiss (_so ardent_). Nik kisses her as if she's everything that matters, everything that is right in this world for him; it's there in the gentleness of his hands, in the sweetness of his kiss, in the rapid beating of his heart right there against her own. Caroline is lost, so out of her depth, it feels – feels amazing (_oh so good_), and she can't bear it but she never wants it to end.

But it does end, briefly. Nik's lips leave hers, and he's breathing so harshly. His whole body is shaking. So out of control, fevered and uncontainable, as if he is just as affected by this moment as she is. His thumb strokes along her cheekbone, as if he's trying to gain control, trying to remind himself to be gentle, to go slowly.

Caroline whispers his name, breathlessly: "Nik…" Gods, is that _her_ voice?

He groans, and his eyes burn into hers with so much heat, so much…_desire_ (oh, is_ that_ what it looks like)? His voice sounds hoarse when he speaks. "I – I can't. I need –"

And then Nik's kissing her again, harder, rougher, and her whole world tilts and spins and blows off course. She can't _breathe_, she can't keep up, his lips are bruising; demanding. And he consumes her, utterly.

His tongue is forceful now, invading her mouth, his lips moving over hers at a feverish pace. Caroline whimpers slightly in surprise, unsure of herself, suddenly timid and shrinking in his arms. Nik jerks away immediately, as if he's been slapped.

"I'm sorry, Caroline, I – I didn't mean –"

She waves her hand, as if to brush his words off, and untangles herself from his arms, turning away from him. He leans forward as she brings her hand to her lips; they feel swollen beneath her fingertips.

_Her first kiss…_

"Caroline, sweetheart, say something." Nik's voice seems almost nervous.

Caroline lifts one shoulder in a shrug, peering down at the water below them, unable to lift her gaze to his. Her cheeks feel hot.

"I've never been kissed before," she says, softly.

Nik sighs, shifting awkwardly. "I know."

Caroline finally looks at him, shooting him an incredulous glare, huffing indigently. "Oh, you _know_ do you? How dare you make presumptions, you arrogant –"

"Rebekah told me."

"Oh. Well." Caroline sniffs derisively. "I still think you're arrogant."

Nik smiles charmingly at her, dimples and all, and it's excruciatingly difficult not to smile back. She purses her lips instead.

"I still got you to look at me at least," he says, and reaches forward hesitantly to brush an errant curl of hair behind her ear. "That's something, is it not?"

Caroline immediately averts her gaze, cheeks growing hotter at the warm look in his eyes.

"Hmm," is all she says, looking back down at the water, swinging her legs slightly. She can feel his eyes still upon her, as if he's trying to gauge her every move and translate it to what it means. She shudders slightly.

"Was it – did you not enjoy it?" He sounds so anxious.

Caroline shrugs her shoulder again. "I – I don't know. It was…different." She knows. _Oh yes_, she knows.

"Bad different?"

Her lips curve into a small smile that she sends his way; he really can be quite adorable at times. "No, not bad."

"So…it was good?"

"I did not say that!"

Nik lifts his hands in surrender, brows raised. "Well, excuse me."

They're silent for a moment; it's awkward, but not entirely uncomfortable. Caroline tries to absorb just what exactly is happening. He'd kissed her; really, deeply, truly kissed her. And it was all she's ever wanted for so long, it was _breathtaking_, and yet…

"Nik?"

He hums slightly, encouraging her to speak.

"I want to ask you some questions. And I want you to answer me honestly, yes or no. _Just_ yes or no, understand?" Caroline glances at him sternly.

"Yes, but –"

"Ah-ah, yes or no, Nik. Do you understand?"

Nik scowls at her, offended by her tone. He crosses his arms over his chest, looking for all the world as if he'll refuse to answer her.

"_Nik_," she growls, impatiently. His whole body seems to deflate right before her eyes.

"Yes," he mutters, sounding chastised.

Caroline beams at him. "Good," she says, straightening her shoulders. "Now. Tell me, do you love Tatia?"

Nik's eyes instantly lock with hers, a fierce look gleaming in their blue depths. "_No_." His voice is sharp, determined. Caroline ignores the flutter of happiness dancing in her stomach.

"So according you to this was all some sort of attempt to _protect me _from yourself?" Her tone is sarcastic, her eyes rolling up a little.

"Yes."

"Because of your father?"

"Partly, I sup –" he hedges, but she's as strict as ever.

"Yes or no, Nik."

"Yes," he sighs, exasperated.

Caroline purses her lips slightly, trying to push back the anger. As if Mikael doesn't get enough enjoyment ruining Nik's life, he has to ruin hers too? Oh, she wishes there was something she could do. _Anything_ she could do. It isn't fair, the way he treats him. It isn't fair at all. Why doesn't he treat the others this way? Why is it only Nik?

"So…have you…wanted to kiss me for a while?"

Nik smirks at her, leaning forward. "Yes," he purrs.

Why didn't he tell her? Why did he have to go through this whole charade? She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve it at all. Caroline looks at him seriously, and murmurs in a soft voice: "Are you sorry for everything?"

He grabs her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips. "_Yes_." He's never sounded so sincere before. Nik looks at her solemnly, earnestly, kissing her knuckles. And she isn't sure why, she doesn't understand herself at all, but…she believes him. Caroline looks right into those eyes, so blue and so captivating, and she _believes_ him. She isn't sure she can forgive him, not yet, maybe not ever, but…she believes him. That's all she can give him for now. Belief. In him.

Caroline smiles hesitantly, and when he smiles back it sets her pulse racing; just like it always has. Just like it always will. She knows it will, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"When you asked me to meet you here, were you intending to kiss me all along?"

Nik's grin widens. "No." At her raised brows he quickly amends, "Well, not completely. But I…thought about it."

_So did I. Always._

"Did you…did you enjoy it?" Caroline asks shyly, feeling unsure again. She's never kissed anyone before, after all. What if she was no good? What if he hated it? What if he never wants to do it again?

"Yes," he rumbles, scooting closer to her.

Caroline's cheeks flush slightly. "Do you – would you mind if _I_ tried?"

Something tangles inside of her abdomen as his eyes grow hooded, looking at her from beneath his lashes. "By all means, sweetheart. Have at it." His voice; _oh my, his voice_. It's a soft rasp that makes her whole body feel hot.

She leans forward, nervous because he's watching her so intently, his gaze never leaving her face. It burns; flutters in her stomach and dances across her skin. Caroline brings a hand to his cheek, enjoying the way the scruff along his jaw tickles her fingertips. She scoots closer and Nik makes an encouraging sound, tilting his face down slightly towards hers.

Very slowly, she presses her lips to his. Nik doesn't move, doesn't breath, in fact he doesn't even shut his eyes; he's still peering at her from beneath his lashes, eyes at half mast. Caroline closes her own quickly, and his lips curve into a slight smile beneath hers.

He seems to sense that she's unsure of what exactly to do; he parts his lips, enticing her to do the same, taking control of the kiss. And it sweeps her away on a cloud, so light, so full of warmth, and yet anchors her all at once, tethered solely to Nik.

Caroline sighs, blissfully, losing herself in his kiss; forgetting everything. It's almost as if nothing else matters, outside of this moment. Her heart jolts when Nik's hands run down to her hips, pulling her towards him until she's sitting across his lap, his arms encircling her. She giggles softly against his lips, and giggles more when he starts to grin. His fingers tickle slightly up her sides, skittering across her ribcage, and she laughs harder, breaking away.

Nik's grinning at her almost smugly, so Caroline punches him lightly in the arm. "Ugh, why are you smiling at me like that? Stop it."

He laughs, softly, and the sound sends a nostalgic pang rushing through her; she hasn't heard him laugh in so long.

"Because you are," he mutters, looking down as if embarrassed. "I've missed that." Nik clears his throat uncomfortably. The fading sunlight casts shadows across his face, shrouding his features from her.

"Well, that is _your_ fault, not mine."

Nik winces. "Am I forgiven?"

"I do not know, Niklaus."

* * *

Though the evening ended on a slightly sour note, Nik still walks her home. Caroline loops her arm through the crook of his elbow, to show him that even if he isn't quite forgiven yet, she's willing to give him a chance. As they walk beneath the trees, where the leaves glow orange against the backlight of the falling sun, Caroline rests her temple slightly against his shoulder and realizes just how much she's missed their walks through the woods. Her fingers tighten on his arm, worried that if she lets go, he'll disappear and this will all have been a dream; brief, but so very perfect.

When they reach her home, Nik bends slightly to leave a lingering kiss along her cheek, his hot breath fanning over her skin; it sets her ablaze all over again. Caroline raises her eyes to his, and the ache to hold him is as strong as ever. But first, there is something more important to her.

"Will you meet me in the morning, Nik? At sunrise?" Her voice is whisper soft between them; as if she's frightened her voice will break this wondrous illusion. "There's something I need you to do for me."

He nods, a lock of hair falling into his eyes, and she fights back the temptation to brush it aside for him. "Of course," Nik says, just as quietly. Caroline beams up at him, and he exhales sharply.

"Good. Thank you. Have a – have a good night, Niklaus." And now she sounds so formal, what is wrong with her? Why is this so awkward at times? She has no idea what to do or what do say, and she's sure that she'll get it all wrong, wrong, _wrong_.

Caroline turns to take her leave, reaching for the door, but Nik pulls her back and kisses her on the lips one last time, quite soundly. Very, _very_ soundly. _Oh, yes he does._

* * *

"When you asked me to meet with you, love, I wasn't aware that it was your intention to have Elijah along as well."

Nik sounds furious, sending her an angry glare as he crosses his arms. Caroline rolls her eyes up at him before glancing at Elijah. She gulps slightly at the look on _his_ face; it's never a good thing when Elijah's expression is so unreadable that he appears to be made of stone.

"Please don't look at me like that, Elijah. I am truly sorry that I asked this horrible man to intrude on our morning routine, and I promise it shall never happen again. But this is important. Forgive me?"

Nik splutters slightly, and now he looks positively outraged. "Morning routine? You do this every morning? What is this?"

Caroline ignores him, pointedly edging closer to Elijah. "He's your brother," she whispers to him, so Nik can't hear. "Give him a chance. For me?"

Elijah sighs, brushing off the front of his tunic in a dignified way, frowning down at her. But there's an indulgent look in his brown eyes as he stares at her, as if to a sister that he's too fond of to say no to. Caroline averts her attention to Nik, shooting him a stern glare.

"I'm not speaking to you until you try to make amends with your brother." She's got her no-nonsense voice firmly in place, and her no-nonsense eyebrows too; furrowed and serious, to match her frown. Caroline means business.

Nik's lips open resentfully (because _of course_ he's got too much pride to apologize to his brother, Odin help him) but Caroline cuts him off.

"Family above all, Nik."

And then she leaves them, clambering off the roof as gracefully as she can; which, just so happens, isn't very graceful at all. When she lets herself drop with an _oof_ right onto her behind, she can hear them both snort from above. Caroline brushes her skirt off, sending them both a cross look, before walking away.

She hopes with all her hear t that they can make things right again.

* * *

"I'm not going to apologize."

"No, of course not, brother. That would take some level of decency and accountability, would it not?"

"Look, I did you a favor. She's no good for you, Elijah."

The situation is irreparable; unsolvable. But…they are brothers. _They are brothers._ Always and forever.

* * *

"Soooooo…Nik came home last night looking quite chipper. You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you?"

Kol plops down at the table, right where Caroline left her bowl of porridge while she fetched some water, and immediately digs in ("Excuse you, that's _mine_!"). He hums happily while he shovels it into his mouth, and Caroline shoots him a disgusted look before snagging another bowl.

"I haven't the slightest clue as to what you are talking about," she scoffs, lifting her chin in a dignified way as she sits across from him. Kol has the nerve to laugh at her; she's a little surprised he doesn't snort food from his nostrils.

"Come on, darling, sure you do."

When she doesn't answer, Kol continues on. "It was the jealousy thing, was it not? I told you. Though your…chosen _specimen _left a great deal to be desired." There's a disgruntled look on his face, as if he's quite put out that she hadn't chosen him instead.

Caroline rolls her eyes, swallowing a mouthful of porridge before replying. "Oh, and I suppose you think _you _would have been so much better."

"Of course," Kol preens slightly, grinning at her. Caroline sighs with more than a little exasperation. The boy is _so _full of himself (but she would be lying if she said she didn't find it _slightly _adorable. Slightly).

He presses on, persistent as ever. Kol is _such _a gossip-monger.

"So has true love finally prevailed over the evil hag, Tatia?"

"We may or may not have spoken. The details are a little hazy, you'll have to check back with me."

"Hazy?" Kol throws his head back and laughs so loud she worries briefly that Loki may come down to see what's so funny; Kol truly must be his favorite human. "_Hazy_? Was Nik really that bad?"

"_KOL!_"

* * *

Caroline finds Rebekah sitting in the byre, laying across the straw covered floor with her chin propped in her hands, eyes soft as she admires one of the newest foals. Its legs are long and spindly, and as the creature attempts to hobble clumsily to its dam's side, its little legs shake and crumple until the foal topples over once more. Rebekah laughs quietly, a smile curling at the corner of her lips. With a grin of her own, Caroline lays down next to her friend, snuggling into her side.

"Rebekaaaaah," she whines, albeit quietly so as not to disturb the animals, leaning her temple against Rebekah's shoulder.

"Hmm," is all her friend mutters, dreamily; she seems to still be off in her own little world.

"I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do."

And honestly, she doesn't. She's spent so long pining for Nik, longing for his affections, and it seems now that she finally has his attention…Caroline doesn't know what to do with it. She's young, so very inexperienced, how is she suppose to know how to handle these things?

Rebekah sighs heavily, shrugging her shoulder in an attempt to jostle Caroline off of her, but Caroline doesn't budge. "About…" Rebekah trails off, raising her brows in question.

"Niklaus."

A frown is thrown Caroline's way. "I thought you didn't want to talk abo –"

"He kissed me." The words tumble from her lips before she can stop them. She was near bursting to get them out of her, to tell _someone_, and now that they've finally been freed the reality hits Caroline all over again, leaves her breathless once more.

Rebekah immediately jerks up, eyes almost comically wide. "He _what_?!" Her voice is a near-shriek, and at the sound the mare in front of them stamps her foot and flicks her tail in irritation, huffing indignantly. But neither of them are paying much attention to the horse.

"He – he kissed me. And it was…it was so –"

"Oh, gods, Caroline I do _not_ want to hear about the details!" Rebekah stuffs her fingers into her ears, looking panicked at the notion that someone could possibly be kissing one of her brothers and then _actually_ want to share the moment with her. Caroline rolls her eyes.

"Well, who else am I suppose to talk to about this?"

Rebekah just shakes her head, fingers still plugging her ears. Caroline crosses her arms with a huff, glaring at Rebekah sternly. It seems to do the trick; very cautiously, Rebekah lowers her hands (she keeps chanting under her breath, "_pleeeeease, no details, I cannot handle details"_), and gestures for Caroline to continue.

As hard as it is not to gush about every single moment of it, Caroline spares her friend and gets right to the heart of the matter. She asks, in a voice quite small: "Do you think I should forgive him?"

Rebekah sighs dramatically. "You really shouldn't ask me, Caroline, I'm biased when it comes to my brothers, I'm really not the person to –"

"Bekah," Caroline whines with a bat of her lashes, cupping her hands together beneath her chin in a pleading gesture.

"I think…I think it's not really a matter of forgiveness, Caroline." Her voice is hesitant, wary of Caroline's reaction.

"_What_? But he –"

"I know what he did hurt you. But you both have said horrible things to each other since this whole fight started. You did not see how lonely he was. Nik was miserable. I don't like Tatia by any means," Rebekah quickly amends when Caroline's eyes start to take on an ominous glint. "_But _you weren't exactly promised to each other. He – he didn't _really _do anything wrong, and – oh gods, stop looking at me like that, what are you – _no!_ _Not my hair_!"

* * *

Deep down Caroline knows that Rebekah is _slightly _right. _Slightly_! She understands that she never had a claim to Nik, that maybe one misunderstanding led to another and got them stuck in this whole mess. But…but it hurt, nonetheless. It hurt deeply.

_Rebekah _says they should let bygones be bygones. _Rebekah _says they need to forget the past and create a future; together. _Rebekah _is far too obsessed with her brother's happiness, honestly, why did Caroline even bother asking her? She's _so _biased when it comes to Nik.

Caroline likes the sound of it all though; her and Nik, creating a future together. The two of them, always and forever. The thought alone stitches a smile across her lips, and it lasts for the rest of the day. She's smiling so hard her face is almost in pain as she makes her way home; she's radiant, she is sunshine, she is –

_Oh, gods it's him!_

Nik is walking straight towards her, purposefully, arms swinging slightly by his sides. For a moment she's confused; after months of avoiding him and quipping angrily at him, Caroline forgets that they're on the pathway to making amends, so she throws him a frown and immediately turns tail, heading in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going? Caroline!"

She freezes, unsure if she should just continue going her way or turn around and face him. Caroline glances over her shoulder at him, and Nik huffs as he runs to catch up with her.

"Have I done something to make you angry?" He asks as he gets closer, panting slightly. Caroline's brain feels like it's momentarily turned itself off, and she poises herself for flight; she can't handle this right now!

"Umm," she stutters helpfully. She can feel the burn in her cheeks as they start to flush. Nik's hands curl around her arms, turning her towards him, dragging her closer. A little drop of sweat is rolling over his Adam's apple and disappearing into his tunic; her mouth runs dry when she thinks of it dripping down his chest. Caroline's brain flickers to life (barely) and she blurts the first thing that comes to mind:

"Rebekah says we should let bygones be bygones!"

_Now_ she's embarrassed; she basically shrieked it into his face. Caroline is tempted to cover her eyes with her hands and hide behind them for the rest of her life, but Nik is still holding her arms.

"Hear, hear!" One of the villages passing by encourages, giving her a thumbs up. Oh, she wants to _die_! "I second that!" Another says, and then another, "it's about time, I say!" And really, w_hat _is _with _these people?!

Nik's glare is enough to send them scurrying away, clearing the path that they're standing on. Wait, does she want to be left alone with him? It doesn't seem like the wisest decision, with Nik smiling down at her suddenly, a thrilled gleam in his eyes.

"I must say, I rather like that idea, sweetheart," he purrs, dragging her closer until he's got her trapped against his chest.

"Well, it was _her _idea, not mine. I did not say that I wanted to, by any means, so just –" oh my, he's kissing across her jaw, feather-light kisses that make her knees go weak and leave her skin tingling. "– umm, stop doing that, we still –" her pulse is thundering as his lips start to wander down her throat, and Caroline desperately tries to hang on to some semblance of coherent thought.

"Elijah!" She gasps, and Nik growls warningly against her flesh, teeth very faintly grazing her skin. "Nik, stop, listen, Elijah," Caroline pants again, tugging his hair slightly between her fingers. "Did you speak to him?"

Nik sighs dramatically, his breath stirring the hair that he currently has his nose buried in. "Yes," he mutters against her ear, before sucking the lobe into his mouth. Her whole back arches, body strung taut like a bow, and Nik traces his fingers up her spine, humming very quietly into her ear with pleasure. She feels as if she's coming undone in his arms, falling to pieces, but oh it feels so wonderful.

"And everything is fine now?" she asks breathlessly as he leans back, and beneath her lashes she catches him admiring the way her chest is slightly straining against the bodice of her dress as she tries to catch her breath. Caroline huffs and slaps him very lightly across his jaw, utterly indignant, and Nik just dimples his cheeks at her, looking only slightly abashed. One of his hands curls around her cheek, bringing her face towards his.

"Everything is fine," he affirms, softly, his lips hovering over hers. Caroline becomes completely boneless in his arms, and she rests her palms against his biceps, fingers curling into the firm strength there; it's all muscles and hardness, and her mouth is getting drier and drier.

"Well," Caroline croaks, and clears her throat. "Fine. Sure. That's…fine. Now if you would be so good as to…well, you know…" she trails off, raising a brow at him as coyly as possible. At Nik's answering grin, her heart feels as if it literally ceases to beat; it actually thuds to a complete and total stop. And then he husks: "with pleasure," and his lips are pressing to hers, and suddenly her heart is thundering like a bodhran, harsh and fierce and singing inside of her. Yet even in all of that wildness, it's all at once delicate like a butterfly, fluttering up her throat on wily little wings, intent on escape, and she has no clue how he can possibly affect her this strongly, but she swears (_she swears!_) it will _never _go away, it will _always _be like this for them.

(And it always is, this burning passion, so tempestuous and unbearable, it _always is_. Despite the grief and the anger that keeps them apart, despite the centuries that grow between them like an endless void, the need for him has never lessened).

* * *

A chill starts to settle in the air as the days go by; you can almost smell the hard times of winter brewing in the distance. They all hate the cold months, and the inevitable death that it brings. Villagers succumb to sickness, starvation, even something as small as not having enough firewood. And of course, there are always the werewolves themselves. The worst plague the village has ever known. But they're Vikings; they have stubbornness issues. So they'll face the hard times head on and suffer through them quietly, united and strong. They'll make it through, just as they always do, year after year.

The winter-dread doesn't seem so bad for Caroline this year however; which is, perhaps, because she's caught in her own little bubble of warmth and light; happiness. She is truly happy. And it isn't just because the man that she's been pining for is finally reciprocating her romantic longings, it isn't only about those moments when he catches her alone and pulls her into his arms for a searing kiss, although all of that certainly _does_ put a skip in her step.

Mostly, it's because she has her best friend back. Her confidant, her other half. Her hero. Oh, she _missed_ him so much; Nik with his roguish grin and his mischievous dimples; Nik who seems to have learned some new jokes in their time apart, and leaves her howling with laughter any chance he can get. He seems willing to do whatever it takes to make her smile.

Nevertheless, they still argue a lot; they always have, they always will ("it's part of our charm," Nik teases one day with a grin, which only makes her fight with him all the harder). And it's hard to reconcile a relationship based solely on friendship into this…well, whatever it is that they are now. At times she feels awkward, unsure of herself, but Nik doesn't seem to mind. Occasionally, when a bout of shyness hits her and cripples her into silence, he'll ask what's wrong. Most of the time she just smiles at him and glances away, but once she answered him.

"I don't understand how you can be so…I just don't know how to _be _around you sometimes, I feel so –"

Nik starts twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers, his gaze speculative, a little half smile on his lips. Caroline's words die in her throat.

"Caroline," he starts, as he tucks her hair back behind her ear. "You don't have to _be_ anything other than what you've always been with me."

She only smiles at him, snuggling into his side, laying her head across his chest. They're back at the waterhole; it's one of the few places they have where they can be completely alone, and they come here every evening and silently admire the fading sun as it drips down past the trees, streaking shadows across the still waters below them. Well, mostly silent. Occasionally they'll talk. Occasionally they do…other things. Things that ignite a fire in her veins and send tingles racing in her abdomen. She doesn't completely understand what it means, but there's a need inside of her every time. What she needs, Caroline hasn't a clue. She only knows that she _needs_ it _badly._

* * *

Resisting her is getting more and more impossible. Nik spent so long denying himself her company, and now that he's near constantly in her presence, the urge to kiss and taste and touch is stronger than ever. It's almost unbearable, tasting her lips upon his; feeling the way her body trembles against him and hearing the stutter of her breath as he slides his tongue down her throat. Nik has wanted her for so, so long. Forever, it almost seems. And he'll be damned if her ever lets her go again.

When she nuzzles her face into his chest with that little smile of hers, so full of light (he swears, it's the most precious smile in the world), and slings her arm across his waist, something within his chest just _aches_. He doesn't understand what it is, but there's a fierceness stirring inside of him to always protect her, to always keep her by his side.

He thinks he would give anything, _anything_, if they could keep this moment forever. If he could keep _her_ forever. He thinks, _I will never forget what this feels like_.

(He will, though. He will. Rage and bloodlust eventually blot out all that once mattered. Even _her_).

* * *

The days are starting to grow _very_ chill indeed, when a man on a horse comes. A man with a plea for her mother. He's from the next village over, a full day of travel, and his wife is deathly ill.

"Do you not have a healer of you own?" Caroline asks, almost crossly. At her mother's stern expression, Caroline just raises her brows at her innocently.

"My wife is our healer," the man murmurs, gravely. His whole face seems to be bleached of color; honestly, he's probably sick himself. But he appears to be more worried about his wife than himself; he explains that this illness has spread to several in the village, but with his wife sick she cannot help herself or the others, and they are in desperate need of assistance.

Caroline's mother agrees to go; _of course_ she agrees to go. And she'll leave Caroline here, to fend for herself, while she takes _who_ knows _how_ long caring for these other villagers despite having a village of her own to worry about.

Caroline helps her pack, being sure to stuff in extra food for her mother; she can't help but worry for her. Before her mother mounts her horse, Caroline hugs her, quite hard; whispers in a fierce little voice for her to be careful, and come home soon; tries to wave her off with a smile as the two ride into the distance. Oh, she hopes her mother will be careful. Caroline sighs despondently.

"Where is your mother going?"

Caroline shrieks, and whirls around, clutching her heart. Nik is grinning at her from the entryway of her home, leaning casually against the frame.

"Would you not _do that_ please? Gods, you scared me!" Her heart is still racing, nearly beating right out of her chest. Nik just grins wider.

"My apologies love. It wasn't my intention." Oh please. His smile says otherwise. Caroline rolls her eyes. And then quite suddenly it dawns on her.

Her mother is gone. For days. Caroline is alone, completely and utterly alone.

She smiles coyly up at Niklaus. "Nik," she simpers, and sashays towards him; he looks vaguely amused at her efforts. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Nik's answering grin could rival the gods, she's sure.

* * *

**A/N: **So, tell me, tell me, whatcha think?! I would love to hear your thoughts!

BUT first, before you tell me, I want you ALL to keep in mind (especially those of you that think Caroline is being weak and stupid), Caroline is a 16-year-old human girl apt to forgive easily. As I said on tumblr (follow me, btw!) I can't start her off with the same wisdom and fire a thousand years of existence will give her. I'm building her character, guys, so have faith. That's half the point of this story, is her character development. She will develop a great deal of strength and she won't let anyone push her around. So just, you know, calm down and have faith. I know what I'm doing, I promise.

Speaking of tumblr, Lyssa (irrationallyrational on tumblr) drew my fic some pictures! They're adooooorable! And Candis (candisaccola on tumblr) made me a graphic and it's beyond awesome. Go check them out!

And now, I'm off to the beach! I won't be back until the 14th, which means I probably won't be able to update again until the end of the month since I won't have my laptop with me. But I'll have my iPhone, so if you guys send me asks on tumblr I'll definitely respond to ANYTHING you want to say to me! And I will devour your reviews as I enjoy the sunshine! And I will blog stuff while under the influence, and fangirl with you all during the premier (nothing better than watching a new episode of your favorite show at the beach, woot!).

Anyway, ENOUGH. I've gotta go, I'm late! Love you all! Mwah!


	5. I am overwhelmed by you

**A/N: **Here's this junk. Ugh. I stressed over this chapter like you wouldn't believe (thank goodness the happy times are almost over), so I hope you guys enjoy it. It would have taken me even longer, but I get so much encouragement (ahem, threats) on tumblr to update that I managed to get this out much sooner than expected. So, yay! I guess. I don't know, maybe not yay (cos it sucks, btw). Sucky-ness aside though, thank you ALL so much for your beautiful reviews! I am blown away after each update, and it's really the best feeling in the world. You have no idea how much sweet love I wanna make to you all. COME TO ME!

P.S. I'm sorry this chapter is a wee bit shorter than the others. This is a full-on Klaroline chapter and it takes a big step forward in their relationship, so I really wanted to focus on that. I promises the next one will be much longer.

As always, thank you times a billion to Anastasia Dreams for betaing this crap (she has a new story out, btw, and it's hot as fuck so go read it). I wouldn't have been able to even post this one without her, she is truly invaluable.

And last but not least, LISTEN TO THE SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER! SO MANY KLAROLINE FEELS! DYING!

* * *

_**So Long, Lonesome**_

_**Chapter Five: I am overwhelmed by you**_

* * *

_And I am overwhelmed by you_

_am overcome with joy_

_you've taken me higher and shown me what love can do_

_where would I go or be without you_

- "Overwhelmed" Tim McMorris -

* * *

They are eternal. They are unforgettable. Perhaps from the very day that Caroline first met him, both of them so little, so stubborn, so bossy. The fates must have known, even then, that their connection would lead to this moment. So when was the beginning? She sometimes wonders to herself, if that night had never happened, would any of the rest of it have come to pass either?

Caroline will never forget it; it is a memory that has permanently etched itself upon her thoughts. At times, it hurts to recall it. An actual physical pain that churns in her gut, a sting that pierces her heart repeatedly; dwell upon the past for too long, and it can grow claws, razor-sharp, honed to cut you down with a cruel precision. Nonetheless it is cherished, tucked closely to her heart, an undying ember even if only in her memories; clear and bright and true.

He accepts her invitation with a smile; one of those dangerous Nik smiles; the ones that make her knees grow weak and her heart thud painfully fast. For a moment Caroline mourns the days when they were merely children, and his smiles didn't affect her so. But then he rests his hand against the small of her back, coaxing her inside, and she's too caught up in the dizzying spell his eyes evoke upon her to bothing even caring.

Nik busies himself with getting the meal-fire underway while she prepares fresh thyme and carefully chopped chives, humming to herself as she works.

"I hope you still like nettle soup," she singsongs innocently; she knows very well that he does not.

A grimace crosses Nik's features. "No meat?" he half-heartedly complains, with something that looks suspiciously like a pout upon his lips; big baby. Caroline rolls her eyes and grouses right back, "you know I don't cook well, so you'll eat my nettle soup and you'll be happy about it."

Now he's definitely pouting; she's struck with an urge to laugh, but instead cajoles him into forming the dough for barley flatbread while she washes the nettles (and as usual, all it takes is turning her big, waif eyes on him and a soft-spoken, '_please_' before he's wrapped around her littlest finger). Caroline sets him up at the table next to her, beckoning to him with a smile, inwardly cackling to herself when he does as he's told.

It feels…nice; working side by side, not even minding the silence. Right, so right, almost as if they've been doing this for years. Caroline bumps his shoulder, just like always, and beams up at him when he nudges back.

The disks that he's attempting to form in the dough are woefully misshapen; she gives in to the temptation to laugh this time, hardly even chastised by the glare he shoots her, and after leaving the nettles to boil for a few moments she brushes him aside and takes over, flattening the dough into perfect shapes ("I was doing just fine, thank you." "Yes, well fine isn't good enough. I happen to be a perfectionist, or have you forgotten?"). It's hard to concentrate, however, with Nik crowding her. His shoulder brushes against Caroline's repeatedly as she firmly kneads the dough; honestly he has no concept of personal space. She glances at him from the corner of her eye and spies a half-grin on his lips as he watches her, enough that his dimples are showing. Inexplicably she finds herself flushing under the heat of his eyes, so she quickly lowers her lashes, training her gaze back to her task.

"Do you think you can cook these without burning them?" Caroline asks, feigning nonchalance. Nik snorts, taking the tray from her as she returns to her soup. His fingers brush hers in the process, and it feels like little bolts of lightning charge straight from his fingers into hers, shooting up her arms and tingling all throughout her. She hurries past him, caught unawares by the feeling; it's moments like these when she remembers that their status quo has evolved, matured from the innocent dalliance of childhood; something more is building between them, and it's been building for quite some time. At times it seems you could cut the tension between them with a blade, and Caroline does not know whether to embrace this feeling and pull it closer, or run away as quickly as she can. It's a confusing sensation, bewildering and frightening and heart-pounding, but oh so wonderful.

Very quickly she drains the nettles and chops them, flustered enough that she nearly chops a finger or two off instead. She reaches into a cupboard for the butter, standing on her tip toes and stretching her fingers as far as they'll go, the tips just barely grazing the little clothe piece that covers the jar. A quiet oath tumbles from Caroline's lips, and then quite suddenly she can feel Nik stepping up behind her, his chest brushing slightly against her back; and it's warmth and lightning and tingles all over again, her eyes all a-flutter as she finds herself subconsciously leaning back against him.

"Here," he husks, right against her ear. "Allow me." Nik's arm stretches out alongside hers, pushing her hand aside as he grabs the jar of butter and brings it down for her. Caroline clutches it tightly to her chest as he passes it over, her grip so hard that her knuckles turn white. She's not entirely certain if her sigh is one of relief when he steps away, back to observing the flatbread, or regret at the loss of his hard body pressed to hers. Perhaps it's a little of both.

Caroline barely manages to pay attention to what she's doing as she finishes making their soup; she's distracted by Nik's hunched silhouette as he crouches next to the meal-fire, his eyes never leaving the bread; he seems determined not to burn it after her quip. From where he's crouched, she has a good view of his…never you mind.

She adds slightly too much flour to the butter as she melts it (_why_ is he so distracting, she grumbles to herself), and mistakenly dumps the entire pot of broth into the mix in her attempt to correct the miscalculation (she would very much like to know _why _he's so distracting), so she says to Hel with it all and tosses the nettles back in, along with some wild marjoram, thyme and chives. As she sprinkles a pinch of salt in, she most inopportunely chooses that moment to glance up at Nik (what a glutton for punishment, she must be). And would you look at that, it's just her luck that he happens to be itching something at his side, his fingers lifting the edge of his tunic ever so slightly; Caroline's mouth starts to salivate at the sight of his hipbone, and her pinch of salt turns into a handful. Oh, well. She stirs it with a rueful frown, hoping it won't taste _too_ horrible.

She rather has a feeling that it _does_ taste horrible. When Nik slurps down his first spoonful, Caroline sees, with a sinking sensation swooping in the pit of her stomach, that his eyes water and his whole face turns red as he chokes over it. "Too salty?" She asks with a pout, glancing at his bread; it looks perfectly golden.

Nik shakes his head adamantly, and croaks in a hoarse voice: "No, no, it tastes delicious, sweetheart."

Caroline peers down at her own soup balefully. "Oh, well if you say so." She dips her spoon in as she speaks, preparing herself for the trauma. But before she can, Nik upends his entire bowl into his mouth, swiping his sleeve along his jaw to remove any excess broth that may have dribbled out, and then he jerks her bowl from her fingers.

"Do you mind," he asks, as Caroline blinks up at him entirely flummoxed. "I'm starved." And without waiting for an answer, he upends her bowl as well; she likes the way his adam's apple bobs several times as he swallows it all back. When he sets the bowl down on the table once more, his face looks a little green, and a shudder runs through his body. But all he says is, "Mmm. Delicious."

Hmm…well, maybe it wasn't so bad? Looks like she'll never know. Caroline grabs a slice of flatbread, the smell of fresh barley wafting up to her nostrils; she breathes in the scent with her eyes closed, a small smile lighting across her features, before taking a bite, moaning a little at the crisp, fresh taste. When she looks back up, nodding her approval as she chews her bite, she catches a smile of his own on Nik's lips as he watches her.

"What?" Caroline mumbles around her mouthful, cheeks slightly puffed out. Nik just grins all the wider, shaking his head at her.

"So where did you mother go?"

Caroline huffs, rising to clear their dinner things, slightly disheartened that she didn't get much of anything substantial to eat; but then, she hadn't exactly hungry to begin with. Mostly, she'd just been looking for an excuse to make him stay.

"The healer at the next village over has fallen ill, so she's gone to help."

"She'll be gone for days then," Nik says, his brows puckering slightly. "Do you have enough firewood?" He looks worried as he rises to help her clean their bowls.

"Yes, I have plen –" he cuts her off before she can finish.

"It's getting quite cold out, I could cut some more for you, let me just –"

Nik is already halfway out the door when Caroline places a hand against his arm, halting him. "Don't worry so much, Niklaus. I'll be fine."

He's looking down at her so bleakly, as he takes her hand and places a chaste kiss against her fingers, his lips soft and warm. "I know you will be," he breathes, and it tickles along her skin. "But I can't help but worry. I always worry for you."

Caroline lifts her chin. "I can take care of myself."

"Yes," Nik says, and he glances at their leftover food with a slight frown marring his features. "Yes, it seems you can." But he doesn't sound like he quite believes that.

She beams a smile up at him, walking the fingers of her other hand up his chest, stepping closer to him. "Well, if you are so worried, why don't you…stay with me, to keep a – an eye on me?" Caroline's voice rings with innocence, but the message she's sending him with her eyes is anything but; she's excited to spend more time alone with him, to finally be allowed to lie in his arms for as long as she'd like.

Nik presses another kiss to her fingers, this time his lips lingering for longer; it sets her pulse to thundering in her ears. "I'd like that," he murmurs, with eyes that grow hooded as he looks into hers. The message written there is like a promise and a challenge all at once, and intuition is telling her that she should be barricading herself from him and whatever his intentions are.

But Caroline only smiles, because she'll meet any challenge he throws her way head on; it's been this way since they were children, and she isn't about to back down now.

She asks him to stay, and so he stays.

* * *

Caroline didn't quite think about the logistics when she asked him to stay, however. She's already climbed beneath her fur blanket, wearing only a plain white shift, snuggled into her little pallet. Nik is watching her from the doorway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Nervously, she pats the space next to her; it feels as if something has lodged itself in her throat, and she worries that if she tries to speak she will be unable to.

But she scoots over slightly nonetheless, and Nik grins at her before pushing himself away from the wall and swaggering his way towards her. He's halfway across the room when he starts removing his tunic, lifting it over his head and throwing it to the ground. Caroline chokes over her breath for a moment as her eyes trail across his broad shoulders and the firm expanse of his chest, following the trail down his abdomen where his body tapers into his slim hips. For just a brief moment her eyes are caught on the area between those hips, before she realizes just where it is that she's staring so shamelessly and instantly looks away, heat crawling up her neck and staining her cheeks.

Nik toes his boots off at the foot of her bed before he climbs in, slipping under the fur blanket with her. With both of their bodies trapped beneath it, a sweltering wave of heat passes over Caroline; it grows hotter and hotter as the warmth of his breath falls softly against her ear and the palm of his hand slides along her stomach. She's wearing only a thin shift, scarcely enough to justify as protection from his wandering hands, and she can feel the burn of his fingers all the way through the material, setting her skin on fire.

"Is this…acceptable?" Nik murmurs into her ear, his lips grazing her flesh just slightly as he speaks. It sends a shiver racing down her spine.

"Hmm? Oh, umm…I suppose I will allow it." She almost succeeds in hiding the tremble in her voice, but not quite. To distract herself she tugs irately at the blanket that covers them, grumbling to herself, "it's hot."

Nik laughs quietly, dragging the blanket down to lay about their waists, his hands trailing all across her body as he does so. Caroline shudders again but it has nothing to do with the blast of fresh air that hits her and everything to do with the way his hands so easily pluck cords of longing deep within in; and oh, how those chords play ever so sweetly all through her, such an aching melody, warm and restless and dazzling. Nik inches closer to her, and she can feel the heavy gaze of his eyes upon her newly revealed figure; why is she breathing so heavily all of the sudden?

"Better?" The husk of his voice is sinful; he's not just plucking chords anymore, he's beating a cacophonous drumbeat of hunger throughout her body. What is it that she's so hungry for?

She tries to answer him, but her voice is caught in her throat as his hands run up along her ribcage, the tips of his fingers grazing just barely along the underside of her breast; Caroline releases an explosive breath at the sensation, and as she glances down at his hand she sees that…oh gods, how _embarrassing_, she's – her – it's abundantly clear through the shift that her nipples are…they're _hard._

Caroline glances up quickly, and sees that's exactly where Nik's eyes are as well; glued to her breasts, and he's breathing quite heavily now too. She spies a slight flush coloring his cheeks, and she immediately yanks the blanket back up to her chin.

"Could you blow out the candle please," she whispers shyly, hugging her arms over her front. Nik clears his throat uncomfortably and hastily blows on the flame, pitching them into darkness before he lies back down next to her. He's careful not to touch her this time, but she's so drawn to the burning heat of his body, the firmness of his bared chest, an impatience to feel him all around her, against her. Caroline scoots closer, attempting to do so coyly, thinking that perhaps he will not even notice, but then her hip digs into the firm material of his belt and Nik shifts slightly.

"Isn't that uncomfortable?" Caroline asks, innocently.

"Hmm, what?" Nik croaks, and he sounds like he's breathing much heavier now.

Caroline bumps her hip against his belt again, and Nik makes a strangled sounding noise in the back of his throat. "Your belt," she whispers in a voice that says it should have been quite obvious what she meant.

"Belt? I'm not wearing a – oh. Yes, right. My belt. Very uncomfortable."

"Wouldn't you feel better if you took it off?" Caroline asks, and already her fingers are reaching towards him to undo it.

"No, don't –" Nik instantly tries to scoot back, but the bed is too small, and her hand brushes against his belt…or, what she _thought _was his belt.

_That is most certainly not a belt_, she thinks to herself, as Nik instinctively presses his hips forward against her hand. A groan escapes his lips, and then quite suddenly the not belt twitches against her fingertips, and Caroline realizes abruptly just exactly what it is that she's touching. She jerks back immediately, flushing scarlet, turning away from him.

"Oh gods, it twitched!"

"It does that," Nik mutters, and when she glances over her shoulder she can see based on the movement of the blanket that he's, ahem, adjusting himself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I was just –"

"Its fine, Caroline. Here, come closer, sweetheart." Nik's arms envelope her, dragging her body closer to his, but he's careful only to touch her back to his chest. His fingers rest along her hips, and she wiggles them slightly in his grasp. Even if he's made sure not to bring himself any closer, she can feel the heat of him behind her, and the curiosity is burning through her veins; this need to be pressed against the hardness of his body, so very male, so very different from herself. Caroline inches back just slightly, nudging her hips until they fit against his, and Nik breathes out a quiet oath as that entirely male part of him is pressed to her backside. It's so – _different_ than anything she's ever felt. Caroline wiggles her hips again experimentally, and Nik squirms behind her, breathing heavily into her ear.

"Caroline," he warns in a hoarse voice, but he's instinctively grinding against her backside as if he just can't help himself. "You're asking for trouble."

"What if I want trouble?" She asks innocently, and the way he's panting into her ear leaves her dying for his touch.

He doesn't leave her dying for long; as the words spill from her lips Nik growls slightly, and his hands are trailing back up her stomach. This time they don't linger teasingly at the underside of her bosom; he skims them up higher until his palms fully encompass her breasts, his fingers just slightly squeezing. Caroline gasps, arching her back automatically, pressing herself more fully into his hands. One of them slips beneath the front of her shift, and the skin of his palm is warm and rough against the softness of her flesh. She can hardly believe that he's touching her there; he's never done this before, it feels so new and exciting and oh, gods so good. Caroline clenches her fingers into the fur blanket, instinctively gyrating her behind against him, feeling so desperate for _something_, even if she doesn't understand what it is. There's a wet heat pooling between her legs and she only knows that she's near frantic for some sort of satisfaction there.

Nik's other hand rises to grasp her chin between his fingers, pulling her face around towards his. And then his lips are descending upon hers, hungry and wild, his tongue thrusting against her own. He ravishes her mouth, muffling her little cry of pleasure, and Caroline scrapes her thighs together, pulling her knees up to her chest, desperate for a release from the uncomfortable pressure building there. Nik's kiss does nothing to relieve it; with each soft growl that he breathes into her mouth, each tug of his teeth along her bottom lip, the ache jolts and pounds against her worse and worse.

The hand keeping her chin captive drifts lower, falling to her knees, pressing them down before tugging the hem of her shift up past thighs. The other stays buried beneath her neckline, the roughness of his skin catching over her nipple, sending a bolt of lightning tingling all through her, setting her ablaze. Caroline moans helplessly against his lips, succumbing entirely to his touch. It's hard to reconcile the fact that the boy she once use to run wild through the woods with as children, is now the very same man whose calloused hands and soft lips and strong, determined body leave her melting and igniting and drowning all at once.

Nik's fingers teasingly trail a blaze of flames up her inner thighs, before disappearing between her legs altogether. And then he's palming her in the most – oh my, it's so – no one has ever – Caroline whimpers slightly into Nik's mouth, and he pulls his lips away for a moment to breath quietly, "Ssh, love," before his lips are back upon hers just as hot and moist as before, and his fingers are massaging her body exactly where the ache is most persistent.

She tries to be still, but her hips are jerking against his hand automatically; she doesn't even understand what he's doing to her, but oh it feels so good. Bursts of heat are dancing all through her and she can't breathe, she can't breathe at all; or maybe she's breathing too much considering the dizziness that clouds her mind like a fever-induced fog. Nik's lips leave hers so that he can slide his tongue down her neck, and Caroline thinks she might be embarrassed later over the noises she's making, desperate and aching and _oh, please don't stop_.

Nik's lips settle over her pulse point and suck hard, teeth grazing her flesh, and his fingers are working faster and faster, and it's building like a wave inside of her, barreling towards her like a tsunami, and she can't hold it back, it's going to burst, it's feels so good and unbearable all at once, and it's –

It's exploding; against her, inside of her, setting her skin on fire as the most toe-curling sensation spreads all through her, leaving her shaking in Nik's arms as she cries out. Everything feels wet and slick, her shift sticking uncomfortably to her flesh and Nik's chest so warm against her body.

"Caroline," he groans, and when she feels that he's still hard behind her a jolt churns through her stomach. She thinks to herself, that was only the beginning; and she wonders, what more could there be? How much better could this possibly get?

Caroline twists in his arms, facing him, one of her legs falling to rest between his thighs. Her fingers creep up his neck until they're cradling his jaw, as she sighs back to him: "Nik." And in that one word she pours every ounce of affection and adoration for him that she feels in that moment, in a voice that trembles so much it matches the uneven tempo of her heart. And she wonders even more, is this _love_? This desperate longing that she feels for him, this swelling of emotion and bliss and _happiness_ that consumes her at the barest touch of his hands? She knows, without a doubt, that she loves him as a girl loves a boy; as her best and dearest and truest friend. But does she love him as woman loves a man as well?

She rains kisses over his face, across his lips, snuggling all the closer against him, and Nik groans again, his hands gripping her hips so hard she thinks he might leave some bruises. The look in his eyes is wild, so very passionate, so hungry it seems as if he is only just barely holding himself back.

"Caroline, you deserve better, you deserve – oh gods, I need you," Nik buries his face against her throat, his words muffled, his mouth sliding over her skin as he tastes her flesh. Caroline lifts his face back up to meet hers, nuzzling her nose along his cheek.

"Nik," she murmurs again as she touches her lips to his, enticing him to kiss her back. "It's all right, I – I want this. I want _you_."

He groans painfully, as if she's just shoved a dagger into his heart. And then his lips finally part at her cajoling, kissing her quite soundly as he rolls the both of them until he hovers above her. Nik kneels between her legs, her calves resting over his firm thighs, and bit by bit he drags her shift up higher; past her hips, over her stomach, more and more until it's over her breasts, his eyes following its progress attentively. Caroline lifts her arms as he raises it over her head, tossing it to the ground, never once taking his eyes away from her bared flesh. Self-consciously, she shields her breasts with her arms, flushing hotly under the intensity of his stare, but Nik pulls her arms away. His fingers circle her wrists as he holds them by her sides and leans down, sliding closer to her until her legs fit snugly over his hips. And the look on his face…oh, it hurts. It's the most indescribable expression she's ever seen; and he's looking at _her _this way.

"You're beautiful," he breathes, as he presses another kiss to her lips, sweetly; tenderly. He has never kissed her quite so devoutly before, as if she is a goddess that he wishes to pay homage to. It makes her heart ache, the way he kisses her, and leaves little tears budding beneath her lashes.

"You're full of light," he rasps worshipfully, and his voice is raw as if the warmth of her light has left him burning before her. The fervency of his words makes her tremble, and as her thighs pressed to his hips begin to shake, he smoothes his hands down them, hitching her legs up higher.

"I enjoy you," he husks, and then she feels his hardness pressing right between her legs, where the persistent ache has started throbbing again, and he's so firm and so…oh my, so big, he couldn't possibly, he can't – Caroline's whole body tenses, strung taut, and Nik presses his forehead to hers.

"Ssh," he whispers again. "Relax, sweetheart. Just relax."

"Nik, I…I'm –"

"Do you want me to stop?"

Caroline shakes her head from side to side, quickly; she's scared but…she couldn't bear it if he stopped. Nik's eyes connect with hers as he braces himself above her, and it's like a wildfire is sparking between them. Even if she's frightened, when he looks at her like this…she's never felt safer, never felt more adored. _Beautiful, full of light_; she has never felt so flooded by light in her life. It's overwhelming. She is overwhelmed by him. And she likes to think that Nik is overwhelmed by her as well; with the way he's staring at her, the way he's trembling above her with need, she thinks she may be right.

She wants this. More than anything, she wants this. She needs to know what they can become, together. She _has _to. Nik seems to read the unspoken message in her eyes; _just do it_. He's always been able to read her so well, even when they were children. His fingers hook around her thighs, grasping her flesh firmly, and then very, very slowly he presses himself inside of her.

It hurts; it hurts so badly. Caroline's entire body snaps straight with the tension that floods through her, and a quiet whimper strangles itself in her throat. It's too much, she feels too full, like he'll break her apart at any moment. Her fingernails dig themselves into his shoulders, scraping along his skin as her hips automatically jerk to move away from him.

But Nik leaves another kiss upon her lips, softly, as he rests his elbows on either side of her head, his hands stroking her hair back from her face, murmuring quietly, calling her _love, _encouraging her sweetly; _just relax_, _just breathe_. He's breathing rather heavily himself, his arms on either side of her shaking slightly; and yet he remains still, hardly moving a muscle as she hugs him tightly to herself, trying to breathe in sync with him and relax her body.

"Nik?" she asks, her voice slightly tremulous with unshed tears, and he hums in response, his lips traveling down her throat. She shouldn't ask this, not now. It will ruin everything; but she can't stop herself, the words are tumbling from her lips before she can prevent them, she needs to know, she _needs _– "Have you – have you done this before?" (oh please, say no, please say you have not, please tell me that I am the first.)

But Nik freezes against her, his whole body growing tense, and she can tell by the expression that twists upon his features that the answer is yes. Yes, he has. And something inside of her just breaks at the thought. That this boy that she's grown up with her entire life, watched him change from child to man, a man that she has pined for so very much and bared her whole heart to (he'll always have her heart, always and forever), and yet this one thing, this most precious moment that they could ever share together has been tarnished; given away to _her._ Tatia. It crushes Caroline, deeply. She tries to ignore the wrenching stab that punches into her heart, but she can't.

Nik cradles her cheeks between his hands, and his eyes bore into hers so steadfastly; earnest, always so earnest. And she thinks, in this one moment, that he's baring his heart to her as well. Even if he can't always find the right words, even if he has no words at all, it's there; shining in his eyes, a message that shoots straight to her own heart. It moves her, the look in his eyes; touches her so deeply that she wonders if she'll always remember this look, the devotion and adoration that his eyes are raining down upon her.

(She's right, she never forgets it; this one moment, that look in his eyes, the way that his body spoke to hers even when his lips could not properly find the words she so needed to hear; it haunts her dreams, plagues her memories, even when she grows to hate him so much.)

"It meant nothing," he says, fiercely, as his thumb strokes along her cheekbone.

"It's always been _you_," he says, sincerely, and just slightly his hips move against hers and steal the breath from her lungs.

"Caroline, I –" He can't say it, she doesn't think he ever will, but even if his lips cannot, his eyes are screaming it at her.

She doesn't want to think about Tatia; she won't let her ruin this moment, won't let her steal this from them. It's hers and it's Niks, their bodies entwined so completely, sinking into each other, as if they are two halves becoming one whole, and she will not allow this to be taken from her.

"I hope one day that you can forgive me," so softly, so gently, his voice like the sigh of a warm breeze stirring her hair. But she can't bring herself to give him the words he yearns to hear, either. Instead she kisses him, hard, desperate to forget, whispering, please oh please, just help me forget. And he does.

Caroline tightens her legs around his waist and buries her face against his throat, trying to remember how to breathe as Nik hunches his hips forward again, pushing himself deeper inside of her. It's a weird sort of pain, uncomfortable, like being stretched where you shouldn't be stretched; she doesn't quite know if she likes it. It doesn't feel right.

But then Nik's lips find hers again, devouring her without reservation, and they steal away all the hesitance and discomfort; it's bargained away by the softness of his lips and the sinfulness of his tongue, the rumble of his quiet sounds of pleasure. Nik's hand trails a pathway down her body to where they are joined, touching her there sensuously, fingers curling and flexing and oh, how wondrously they coax her to open to him; and she does. At the touch of his fingers she just melts against him, pressing her hips back tentatively just as he starts to thrust a little more firmly. _That's it sweetheart_, he breathlessly encourages into her ear, and when she purrs his name quietly at the heat of his breath upon her skin, Nik bites her lobe mischievously.

And through the bliss of it all, Caroline somehow forgets the pain, that strange sensation of being filled up far too much; everything is wiped from her mind, every little thing, and with the sweet persuasion of his body it begins to feel so _right_. Beyond right. Nik, buried so deeply inside of her, their bodies fused, touching everywhere, hands and lips and tongues, and it's beautiful, the most beautiful moment of her life. The rapture overcomes Caroline as she sighs and falls apart in his arms, and he moans along with her and they're falling apart together, more connected then she ever realized they could be. Oh, it's perfect. Oh, Nik. Oh, _oh_.

Nothing has ever been so – it's all so – it's indescribable; she has no words for this moment. Flashes of sight and sensation flood her senses, distorted to tiny little renderings of perfection; Nik, thrusting and thrusting, both of them so full of desperation for a release from the inferno; their faces pressed against each other's throats; overwhelmed, overcome, cresting higher and higher, crescendoing to a level of ecstasy that surpasses anything she has ever felt in her life.

_Caroline,_ he breathes her name with reverence, like a prayer to the gods, and then he's whispering it again and again as her hands are feasting themselves upon his body, relentless and insatiable. Everything is quickening, tumbling out of control, and they can't even breathe as it hits them. It explodes inside of her, tearing her apart and she cries out his name as Nik thrusts against her one last time, his own body shaking above hers; and somehow through the tumultuous fever that stirs between them in this never-ending crescendo, they find release in each other's arms; connected, as ever, as one. Just like it was always suppose to be.

* * *

**A/N: **Sooo...sex happened. Sorry it ain't hotsy-dotsy, this is her first time, yo. You have my word, there is plenty of hot sex times to come in the future (I mean that literally).

Give me your thoughts! I want 'em, please! PLEASE! I'll give you money, just pleeeeeeeease!

P.S. Dear Kate & Malia, I'm sorry for the lack of Kol. His time to shine shall arrive one day, so have faith my fellow Kol lovers.


	6. In the daylight we'll be on our own

**EDIT: CHECK OUT MY EDIT IN THE ENDING A/N**

_**A/N:** _Guys, I'm really sorry about how long it took for me to update. I went through hard times (lost my job, lost my apartment, had to move back home, and now I'm back in school which is pretty time consuming) so I just lost my writing mojo. I was also having a LOT of trouble with this chapter.

You guys owe a lot of thanks to Anne (bkgrl, author of I'm Not Calling You A Liar which is just FABULOUS oh my gosh read it) for this update, she inspired me to get back on track with this chapter and helped me figure out a lot of things I needed to address. You wouldn't have this update right now if it weren't for her help, so go read her stuff as a thank you, k?

Also a huge heaping thanks to Kelly (Sunny Daisy, author of the birth and death of the day WHICH IS AMAZING AND YOU NEED TO READ OKAY?!) for betaing this chapter. Lots of things were added because of her notes, so yeah, you guys owe her, cos I think the things that were added are some of the best parts k.

And another GIGANTIC thank you to Inge (swinty81) for the graphic cover she made for this fic. Isn't it beautiful? I dedicate this chapter entirely to her. Thank you Inge, you are the beset graphic maker!

So yeah, thanks to everyone who helped inspire me and everyone who reads and reviews, you have no idea how much those reviews mean to me when I'm feeling down in the dumps and just shitty in general when it comes to my word vomit. Thank you everyone, I hope this chapter will please you and make up for the wait!

And now...read on

* * *

_**So Long, Lonesome**_

_**Chapter Six: In the daylight we'll be on our own**_

* * *

_Here I am waiting, I'll have to leave soon_

_Why am I holding on?_

_We knew this day would come, we knew it all along_

_How did it come so fast? _

_This is way too hard, cause I know_

_When the sun comes up, I will leave_

_This is my last glance that will soon be memory_

- "Daylight" Maroon 5 -

* * *

Nothing ever changes; they've always been the same, all of them, and it's a fact that has been ingrained into her since childhood. Men, boys; the unfaithful and the foolish. They come to her with desperation on their lips, and part from her with satisfaction dancing on their tongues. It's been that way ever since she can remember; uncle in the dead of night; boys longing to shed their purity and transform themselves into men; and then the men, the ones that are married or promised to another, the ones with selfishness in their eyes and infidelity hiding in their hearts.

She was made for it, born for it. She's beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Glittering like a shooting star, hair like night and lips like poison. _Beautiful_. Uncle used to whisper that to her, as his hands brushed aside a child's innocence and forged her into a woman. Every night, until the aunt made her leave when she was old enough and she wandered from town to town, spinning lust like an expert weaver. An outcast, always, but a wanted one. Even if she was wanted in a wicked way, and for never very long at all.

Her parents hadn't wanted her, so they left her with an uncle that did. Her aunt hadn't wanted her, so she coiled herself into the lives of men that did, if only for a few weeks, sometimes just a night.

Love is an illusion, but there was a time that she let herself believe it. He was beautiful, and sincere, and maybe he had a wife, but he told her he loved _her_. Tatia; the one who is never loved. She believed it right up until the moment he left her alone, with his child growing in her belly, and an illusion crumbling like dust and floating away with the wind. Her tears slipped away like sparkling glass, drifted until they were gone, and the pain was forgotten. They never came back; not the men, nor the tears. She is a vessel of secret desires, a body for warmth and forbidden fruits, and she believes that now.

Love is an illusion, but she thought it was illusion she could keep with Niklaus. He was unwanted too; unloved, filled with darkness, made to be bad rather than good. Just like her. She thought he understood, thought that maybe two people unfit for happiness could perhaps imitate their own happy ending with each other.

But old habits die hard; and Elijah, good sweet Elijah, she'd give anything to be wanted by someone so wholesome.

She takes and she takes; things she was never meant to have. Goodness, love, happiness; those things aren't meant for her. And she looks at her son and thinks, bitterly; he'll be just like the rest.

She hates them all but she wants them so badly. If she wants them badly enough, maybe they'll want her too.

_She'll make them want her the only way she knows how._

* * *

It's a delightful sort of awakening; filled with quiet serenity and a giddily pulsing contentment. Nik's running a hand along her bare back, and the warmth of his palm sets her alight, makes her burn and spark with vivacity. He's quiet beside her, perhaps lost in thought, unaware of her wakefulness. Caroline soaks it in, his warmth, his nearness, lets the feeling of him sink inside of her. She could awake to mornings like these every day for the rest of her life, so perfect, so serene, she could; and it would still never been enough. A smile slips across her lips as she imagines doing just that; waking up with him beside her every day, developing rituals and traditions, starting a life. A future, with Nik. It's a small, wistful smile, given with lips still swollen from his kisses. But then she shifts in his arms, notices the discomfort he's left prickling between her thighs, and the smile falters; perhaps the moment isn't _completely_ serene.

A slight grumble tickles up her throat, and at the sound Nik presses closer, lips hot against her ear. "So you're awake now," he purrs, sucking the lobe between his teeth with playful mischievousness. It sets off a delicious frisson of pleasure, shooting all down her body.

"Hmm," she mumbles and burrows herself further against him, nosing his throat. The tranquility she felt before shatters completely as a hot flush creeps up her throat and onto her cheeks; she can't look at him. It's too embarrassing, she'll just stay right where she is and never look at anybody again, because oh gods. She's no longer a maiden.

"Did you sleep well?" his fingers bump along the notches of her spine as he speaks, the callused pads rough against the softness of her skin. When they trail back up, lethargically, they bring another shiver racing along with them.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Will you come out and look at me?"

Caroline shakes her head adamantly, still nuzzled against his throat.

"I insist. Please, sweetheart?" So sweetly coaxing, like honey dripping over her still naked body.

_No_.

But Nik will have none of that. His hands curve around her shoulders and up until they're grasping her chin, very gently tipping her face up. She peeks at him through her lashes, her cheeks still stained a vibrant red that grows hotter as he stares at her. And he's giving her this look like she's handed him the world and he's entirely smitten with it. It makes her stomach feel strange, as if her insides are running amok, and she wonders if he reads the same message in her eyes as she does in his.

Nik smiles at her, one of those slow, heart stopping smiles, and touches his lips very softly to hers; his kiss, for once, quite chaste. And as always, it sinks inside of her and twists around her heart and squeezes until she feels she might just burst into a thousand pieces. There is this incomparable yearning that she feels for him, not just all across every inch of her fevered skin but inside her heart, her mind, deep down into her very soul; it thrums to life inside of her until it's all she's breathing in.

Salaciously, his tongue slips between her teeth, hot breath fanning into her mouth; there's a little noise that claws at the back of her throat as she surrenders her lips to him, and Nik deepens the kiss. He hums, a rumbling sound, as his fingers skim across her bare thighs, fluttering, raising goose bumps along her flesh. His hand curves around her bottom, squeezing just slightly, and Caroline pants against his mouth, coiling herself around him like a snake, breasts pressed flush to his chest.

His fingers drift between her legs, slowly, teasingly, until they brush across her tender flesh. Caroline flinches, choking over her breath as the painful soreness between her thighs grows more abundant. She pulls away immediately, breaking their kiss and grabbing at his arm with a hiss.

Nik's brow crumples, his expression a picture of absolute confusion at her resistance. It's a pitiful sort of look; she almost feels sorry for him, but he's the one who did this to her so...

"Hurts," she groans by way of explanation, sinking back on the pallet, further distancing herself from him. Nik hovers over her anxiously. She's reminded briefly of the time she fell from a tree as a child (the tree _he'd_ dared her to climb up, damn him), and he'd hopped around her like a worrisome mother hen while her lungs clawed for breath (_you look like a dying fish Caroline, what should I do?!)_.

"Is that…typical?" He queries, and she nearly laughs at the hesitance in his voice until an unwanted thought bangs against her skull and is quickly paired with an image she does _not _want in her head; her retort is an acrid taste upon her tongue.

"How should I know? You're the one who's supposed to be experienced here, not I."

The bitterness that laces her tone shuts him up quickly enough as he continues to stare down at her, deflating with shame before her very eyes. Caroline throws an arm over her face to hide her mortification, but also so that she doesn't have to look at him, and remember that while this morning after may be _her _first, it certainly isn't _his_.

"How can I acquit myself, Caroline?"

Her lips twitch, remembering when he'd begged that of her before, that day at the vendor – the determination that lifted his shoulders and the unabashed stubbornness in his gaze. The most determined, pig-headed man she's ever known.

"Nothing," Caroline sighs. "Just let me rest."

She doesn't even know what he's up to until the blankets have been jerked from her body and tossed to the floor.

"Stop," she whines, still hiding behind her arm, shivering slightly as the cool air slithers across her unveiled flesh. She gropes blindly for something to cover herself with, but Nik bats her hand away and then without even a by-your-leave, his mouth is around her nipple and she's sitting up wildly with a shriek of surprise. "Gods, what are you doing?!"

"Trying to make you feel better," Nik grouses, frowning as he nudges her back down. "If you would let me."

"Nik –"

"Ssh," he hushes her, his breath fanning across her breasts. "Just relax."

He'd said the same thing to her the night before, and it has the same effect on her now as it did then; it sends a hurdling wave of heat over her body, a jolt that twinges hotly between her legs as the images and feelings all resurface; his touch, his body, filling her, taking her. All the buzzing thoughts in her mind fade and drift away as Caroline shifts uncomfortably and then stops moving altogether as Nik's tongue trails along the underside of her breast.

"At least," she huffs breathlessly, "warn me next time, you can't just, _oh_ –" if she was having trouble breathing before, now she can't seem to breathe at all, as he takes the bud of her breast into his mouth and rolls his tongue over it playfully.

Without meaning to, her hands rise of their own accord, gripping onto his hair tightly, smothering Nik's face against her breast as she arches up towards him. She can feel his lips curling into a smile against her flesh, and it only excites her more. When his teeth scrape just slightly over her nipple, all she can breathe is _oh._

His hands wander all across her body as his tongue and teeth worship her breasts, and it feels like he's touching her everywhere all at once; dancing along her collarbone, palm sliding along her throat as she swallows thickly, tracing the curve of her jaw. Skimming down her ribcage and dipping around her hip. With each inch of skin that his fingers trail across, they leave behind a fire blazing hotly, and Caroline squirms as her body grows unbearably warm. Nik's hands are terrible, breathtaking instruments of bliss and obliteration. It's intolerable but _oh_, it feels so wondrous.

"Feeling any better?" Nik breathes as her breast pops from between his lips with an embarrassingly loud sucking sound. She can feel her skin flushing all the way down to her toes, and can only hum and nod in accordance, suddenly nervous to look at him.

His lips are placed upon her skin again, and they begin a tortuous path down her ribs. As he reaches her navel and his tongue dips inside, her whole body quakes and she makes the mistake of looking down at him. Nik's staring up at her hotly, and the roguish grin he's leveling in her direction sends the heat instantly pooling into her cheeks; she doesn't know what he's intending to do, but that grin has always meant trouble.

He takes his sweet time before she finds out exactly what he's on about. First with his tongue curling around her hipbone, lips trailing kisses over her thighs and placing them, as they shake, over his shoulders. And then Nik licks the most delicious path of all, there between her thighs, where her flesh has grown damp and desperate. Caroline's hips jerk instinctively towards him, even as she exclaims in shock, "Gods, Nik!"

He only hums, his lips vibrating against her, sending a flurry of tingles dancing across her body. Caroline's hips jerk again, and suddenly there are hands placed on either side, pressing her to the bed, commanding her stillness as the hands firmly remain. Nik kisses her, in a place she never imagined you could be kissed, and then he's sucking and it's _oh_, too much. As sternly as he holds her down, her hips can't help but writhe, desperately seeking further nearness to the pleasure his lips and his tongue lave upon her body.

A fresh wave of shivers race up her spine as her thighs brush Nik's cheeks, his morning stubble scraping along her flesh. Caroline's fingers claw into the bedding of her pallet, frantic to grab anything as the unbearable warmth throbs faster and faster between her legs; and as his lips suck fiercely and wrench an explosive orgasm from her body, she sobs her release, leaving her thighs shaking against his cheeks and her flushed chest heaving.

Her throat doesn't seem to be working properly; her breath keeps catching, and as Nik sits up, looking so pleased with himself, Caroline gaps a little at the sight of him, with not a stitch of clothing to his name. Her gaze slips down his abdomen, eyes widening as they drop lower and – _oh my, is that painful_? He's so –

Nik's own gaze drops to where she's looking, and if she isn't mistaken, his cheeks take on a pink hue. Caroline licks her lips and clears her throat, stomach fluttering with curiosity. Slightly terrified curiosity, but curiosity nonetheless.

He'd made her feel so good, and a quiet longing suddenly sifts through her still-trembling limbs as she realizes; she wants to make him feel good too.

"Can I – umm, would you mind very much if – if I tried?"

Nik chokes, and the blush creeps all the way to his ears, so red she can almost see steam billowing out.

"Uh."

Caroline crawls to her knees, pressing her hands to his shoulders until he lies back, his expression bemused. She sits between his legs, hands braced against his thighs, and looks up at him uncertainly; he's watching her just as warily, cheeks definitely flaming now, but his chest his heaving. Caroline licks her lips again, and the muscles beneath her fingertips jump slightly.

She's not sure what to do with her hands, so she leaves them clenched against his thighs as she bends over. Hesitantly, she runs her tongue along the underside of…_It_ (she's not sure what else to call It, so she'll just stick to that name, thank you). Nik seems to like that; he groans and his hands ball into fists, so she does it again, all the way to the top. Experimentally, she takes the head between her lips, sucking him into her mouth, and the noise Nik makes can't even be described but she can feel the pleasure of that sound curling all the way down to her own toes.

Nik's hand latches around one of her wrists, dragging her hand up and curling her fingers around the base of, well, you know. She squeezes her fingers slightly and sucks harder, and the growl ripping from his throat sounds pure animal.

The thought of taking more of him into her mouth is more than a little frightening, so she keeps sucking, swirling her tongue, trying to keep track of her hand; it's hard to remember to keep moving it, but she haltingly manages, and Nik doesn't seem to mind her clumsy efforts. On the contrary, the way he pants her name, like she's a treasured goddess, and the way his hips keep jerking slightly forward seems to say he's quite enjoying himself. There's an odd taste in her mouth as everything starts to get wetter; it's strange, but not entirely unpleasant, and all she can think is that Nik is feeling exactly how he made her feel moments ago.

Her lips curve into a smile at the sounds he's making; Niklaus is getting quite noisy. Caroline hums a little, pleased with herself, and the vibration of her lips seems to be all he can handle. With a groan of her name, Nik's fingers grip her hair and jerk her head away, and then there's all this…stuff gushing forth.

Caroline's face scrunches; the bodily functions of a male is a little bit…ugh. Her fingers brush Nik's hand away and rub consolingly into her scalp.

"Ow." She grumbles, making a face at him that he doesn't see; he's still lying back with his eyes closed, and the silliest grin on his face.

"Sorry," Nik mutters, and the breathlessness in his voice makes her forget to be upset. When he finally opens his eyes to look at her, she's grinning like a mad person. "I didn't think you would want me to – why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing, nothing." She waves her hand diffidently, glancing away. "I just – you enjoyed it?"

Nik laughs at her, his eyes warm. It makes her heart melt to see him like that— completely beautiful and undone. She hasn't seen him so relaxed, so content, in a long, long time. _She_ did that. There's this feeling fluttering around inside of her, flickering to life in the pit of her stomach, like a little ball of light and it's growing and leaping and dancing, and suddenly she feels radiant when he looks at her like that.

He sits up, arms sliding around her waist, nuzzling his nose along her throat and inhaling deeply. When his breath puffs against her skin, Caroline smiles at the sensation, resting her hands against his shoulders, tracing patterns in his skin.

She sinks against him as he sighs softly, and that little ball of light just grows and grows and fills her up and swallows her whole and all she can think, all she can dream, is that they'll have this forever. She wants this, him, forever.

(And oh, how she'll grow to regret that wish).

* * *

It takes some time to convince themselves to leave the little cocoon of bliss that her pallet has become and brave the morning and its endless list of chores, but eventually they do. Caroline sends him off with a firm, "I have things to do, shoo!" and Nik heeds her command with an amused roll of the eye.

Her first order of the day is finding Elijah; she'd missed him this morning. _Again_. When she imagines him sitting on the rooftop alone and pining over Tatia (as he is wont to do), a stirring of guilt flinches inside of her heart. She applies herself to the task immediately, and eventually finds him alone, repairing a stretch of broken fence.

He hasn't spotted her yet, so she sneaks as close as she can and bellows out a greeting: "Good morning!" He once told her, when they were children, that her 'good mornings' were more cheerful than the rise of the sun itself. Caroline wishes it were still so, that she could lift this dreadful misery that has settled upon his shoulders, but her greeting falls flat when Elijah merely sends her a pained grimace.

"Or not so good," she amends, frowning at him. "How are you?"

"I am fine, Caroline, thank you for your inquiry. Now if you would just–"

"Oh, hush. You were there for me, when I needed you," Caroline argues, crossing her arms. "Will you not allow me to be here for you?"

Elijah looks entirely nonplussed at her request. "There really isn't anything you can do, Caroline."

And it's true; there isn't. But she can't stand the idea of him suffering his pain alone, in silence. She won't tolerate it.

"At least allow me to keep you company?"

He gives in to her request, albeit disapprovingly; he says she has her own chores to attend to. But Caroline only grins at him, coming closer to give him a hand. And before long, she spies the smile that flits across his features as she attempts to hold the rails evenly aligned between the posts. And it's good, so very good, to see a true smile on his face once more.

* * *

They say that time heals all wounds; that with the passage of days, weeks, months, the pain that once punched holes into your heart will eventually close over and fade away, leaving only the barest of scars. In a way, it's true; as time goes by, so fleeting and yet so perfect, the lesions that once stung so painfully lessen until the burn is hardly noticeable. Elijah starts to smile a little more each day, and every time it's slightly less forced than the one before it. Caroline catches them sword fighting once again, as they use to do, and the bitterness that at times still cuts between them is bit by bit torn asunder.

As for herself, well, Caroline finds that Nik is a marvelous distraction from the insecurities that still lance through her. When her mother returns, it's impossible to continue their charade of domesticity within the confines of her home, but they still find ways…places to express themselves.

(Like that time at the waterhole, with patches of dappled sunlight sparkling along the water around them and Nik's arms around _her_, their bodies bared and beautiful and oh, so sweetly glorious when caught in such rapture; stuck in a web of passion as Nik made love to her so very fervently).

Nonetheless, they try to keep it quiet. Caroline can feel Mikael's eyes on them when she dines at their fire; the suspicion in his gaze cuts through to her even as Nik has her rupturing into laughter at his jokes. He insists that they remain a secret for now, as they know not how Mikael will react.

(Lies. They both know how he'll react, but neither one of them will voice it. Herself, because imagining Nik at the end of his father's fists sends a flurry of distress churning in her gut. And Nik, because…well, he likes to pretend he isn't scared, but she knows that deep inside of him he's terrified of his father).

Elijah knows; it would be impossible to keep it a secret from him considering the smile that is so radiant upon her features when she meets with him each morning. Caroline tries her best to reign in her exuberance, for she does not wish to pain him with talk of love and joy, but he knows just the same.

Rebekah knows, although it's quite against her will. She is Caroline's dearest and closest female companion, and brother or not, the confession of Caroline's maidenhood, or lack thereof, is quickly divulged. Poor girl; Caroline suspects that she traumatized her. But who else is she to speak to of such things?

Kol knows. Quite unfortunate, but he knows. She's rather unsure as to how (she sure as Hel didn't tell him), but when she asks Nik he clams up and won't speak until she changes the subject. Caroline suspects it had something to do with mead. Either way, Kol teases her over the whole thing; she surmised he would do as much, but she's caught a little off guard by how half-hearted it is. As if he's only doing so because it's what is expected of him.

Caroline doesn't dwell on it though; her little web of happiness has been spun so perfectly, and she's more than content to settle herself within the net of light that has ensnared her so thoroughly.

In the meantime, breakfast! She's starved already.

* * *

Caroline's seventeenth birthday comes and goes. She doesn't feel older, but she feels…different. Something about her just feels dissimilar, and she can't for the life of her figure it out. It's a peculiar sensation, almost like a premonition. However, she has no time to waste on it. Caroline is always on her feet, anxious to get her chores finished, always so restless for the moment that she can escape into Nik's arms for a brief spell.

Of course, they spend time together throughout the day, but it isn't the same. What with the work of the village, especially now that winter hovers so chillingly at their doorsteps, just barely a knock away, there never seems to be enough time. But in the evenings, when they sneak into the forest together, or cuddle up in the warmth of the straw that fills the byres, there seems to be all the time in the world. And as more days pass, and her body grows accustomed to the hard, ridged planes of his own, Caroline learns a few tricks of her own, always trying to race a step ahead of him and fill him with the same sweet surprise and awe that he evokes within her.

And she's astounded, so very astounded, that this feeling of passion and desire that so consumes her never seems to lessen with time. On the contrary, it only seems to burn brighter and faster, an explosion of fervor that crackles across her skin and ignites something deep inside of her, tearing her apart and building her anew. It moves her; _he_ moves her.

Nothing, _nothing_, will ever be the same for her. Not after him. _Them_.

(And nothing ever is).

* * *

Mikael suspects; Niklaus knows that he must, as he's grown ever more volatile towards Nik as of late. Not that his violence hasn't always been…excessive. But for a moment, one heart stopping moment, Nik had lain there with that sword pressed threateningly against his throat, and he thought…his father might do it; might actually kill his own son.

He'd never felt so terrified in his life.

Not that he would show it. When Caroline came to find him later after word of the incident reached her ears, she'd been so shaken, so close to tears, that he'd brushed the entire event off as if it had been nothing.

She looks so pale, so delicate, so –

"Caroline, are you feeling all right?"

She wipes a hand self-consciously across her lips, as if she's just recently been sick. "I'm fine," Caroline says. "I've just been feeling a little under the weather is all."

When Nik suggests that perhaps she should lie down (even offers to handle the rest of her chores for the day, which is big of him if he does say so himself. Women's work, he scoffs inwardly), Caroline snaps that she is perfectly able to handle them herself.

"My, my, quite the temper, Caroline," he teases in an attempt to make her smile; it doesn't appear to be a good one, for she only narrows her flashing eyes at him and flounces away, head held high.

And here he'd thought she was concerned for his wellbeing. Nik rolls his eyes to himself, even as he smiles towards her retreating figure.

He allows himself to think, he can keep this—keep her. He can be good for her. Perhaps everything is secrets now, stolen glances and hidden touches, but that will change. Mikael cannot control him for his entire life. Niklaus will not allow it.

* * *

He's done a good job of avoiding Tatia, but from time to time she'll turn up, the saccharine scent of perfume cloaking her with innocence and sweetness; both of which she is not. She's a persistent little thing, irksome, and Nik barely refrains from the groan of frustration when she appears next to him one night while he's alone in the byre, tending to his horse. He's heard talk that she still doggedly pursues Elijah as well (not that his brother discusses it with him, thank the gods); what makes him frown are the rumors that his brother has started to heed her pleas of guilt and forgiveness.

"Hello, Niklaus."

Nik ignores the way she looks up at him from beneath her lashes; he has no time for her nonsense. The little wench shouldn't have been carrying on with Elijah behind his back (he should have known she was lying, the vile seductress).

"I have missed you," Tatia continues on, as if he isn't blatantly disregarding her.

"The feeling isn't mutual, I assure you."

She has the nerve to look affronted at his tone of voice; as if she hadn't been playing him and his brother the whole time, one against the other. "That isn't true." She speaks so confidently, head high and shoulders back, like she'll be damned if she'll accept his rejection.

"Look, Tatia, we had our fun but –"

"You thought that was _fun_ for me?" Nik's gaze cuts across to her sharply, surprised at the hysteria tangled in her tone. She sounds like she might cry, but her eyes are dry; hard and sharp and so devoid of emotion it's almost inhuman. "Being taken by a virgin because he's the only one I thought would understand, the only one who –" She cuts herself off, turning away.

His face tightens at her implication, lips parting to accuse that she'd looked as if she'd been enjoying herself just fine, when she interrupts with a huff: "That's not what I meant."

"Well what did you mean, then?"

He's unprepared for the creeping of her fingers across his jawline, cradling his face. Nik frowns down at her, uneasy, ready to pull away, and Tatia smiles up at him bitterly. "Don't you see, Niklaus? We're never good enough, you and I. I thought you understood that."

Nik prepares a weak rebuttal in his mind, but doesn't bother speaking it; they both will see it for the lie it is. She's right, and he knows it; he's always known it. Mikael has beaten that fact into his head since before he could even speak.

The delicate clearing of a throat interrupts their staring contest, and Tatia's fingers slip from his face as he glances to the side and internally groans at the sight of Caroline standing in the doorway, looking furious.

His throat closes at the look on her face, and he shakes his head at her almost helplessly, at a loss for words. Caroline crosses her arms and raises her brows at Tatia, and when Nik glances back at the dark haired woman, a smile like poison has slipped across her face; it touches her eyes and the venom in her gaze nearly burns him.

"Caroline will see it too, one day," Tatia promises him, and then with a stinging kiss pressed to his cheek, she flits away.

Caroline keeps her scowl directed at him, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Well," she barks. "Explain yourself, then."

* * *

They argue.

('_I did nothing wrong, we were just talking, am I not allowed to talk anymore?'_)

(_'Talking, yes of course you were, and that is why her hands were all over you.'_)

(_'All over me, gods woman, stop being so dramatic –')_

(_'You did _not_ just say that!'_)

It's probably the worst fight they've ever had, and halfway through it neither even really remembers what they're arguing about, only that they must argue and win, or die trying.

(_'I swear, you are just so stupid, you're like this big, stupid village idiot. Nobody likes a village idiot, Nik!_')

(_'I'm telling the village idiot you said that._')

"And just what exactly is going on here?"

It's not exactly the most opportune moment for someone to interrupt them; snarling in each other's faces, Nik's hands painfully tight about her wrists and Caroline's fingers dangerously close to poking his eyes out. But at the sound of that voice, they both freeze, and ice drips down into her veins.

_No, no, no. Not yet. You can't take him yet. _

Caroline turns to look at Finn, her lips parting soundlessly; she can't speak, can't move, can't think. He's home, he's back. And the implications of his homecoming…there can be only one possible outcome that it will deliver.

"Finn," Nik says, sounding off-balance himself. "When did you return?" Very slowly his hands release her from his viselike grip, and he steps away from her. The distance is already growing, swallowing her whole, and soon enough she'll be entirely bereft.

"Just now. I've been to see Father, he asked that I fetch you. We need to make plans for the next venture out, we have only a few days time to sort things out." Finn brushes his fingers together absently, as if he's all too eager to be gone already.

"So soon?" Caroline whispers. It strikes like a poison right into her heart. She can't breathe, she can't catch her breath, he'll be gone; oh, why does she have to be so angry with Nik _now_ of all times?

His eyes catch hers, and it's like the gap between them just grows and grows.

* * *

His father keeps Nik plenty busy with the preparations to get their voyage underway, and Caroline sometimes wonders if maybe that's a good thing after all; whether it is or isn't, she avoids him. She won't admit it, not to anyone, but she's terrified of what will happen when he returns. When she thinks of the Finn she once knew as a child, and replaces him with the man he's become, distant and changed with eyes always focused on the next adventure, she wants to weep for their lost childhood. And she's scared, so scared, that Nik will come back to her, and she won't even recognize him anymore.

Deep down, she knows he was being honest, that nothing was going on that night. But she wonders; would it just be easier to let this remain unresolved? To let him leave, see him ride off into the sunset for who knows how long, move on from the anger and the hurt, and accept the fact that when he comes home, it might be to the end of them.

So she shelters her heart and is careful not to cross paths with Nik, as preparation for what she believes must be the inevitable. But she finds that Tatia is a little less easy to ignore; every time Caroline spots her, the rage burns anew, surging in her veins. She wants nothing more than to rake her fingernails down Tatia's face and ruin her pretty little features. Oooh, that girl just boils her blood!

The wound is still too fresh, after all, too deep. Caroline wonders if she'll ever truly forgive Nik. She knows that it isn't as if he was promised to her or even saving himself for her, but she had hoped, foolishly and beyond all reason as only a young girl can…

And every time she sees Tatia, a little voice slithers insidiously through her thoughts, reminds her that Tatia had been his first, that Tatia had felt the hardness of his body against her own and perhaps even pleased him. That thought hurts the most; imagining Nik finding release in Tatia's arms, just the same as he does in Caroline's. And it's those sorts of ideas that bring back the hurt/maim/destroy urges that she feels with each glimpse of her dark-haired rival.

But Caroline tries hard, so hard, to hold back. Fight the urge, bury it deep; she is a lady and she will act as such. She will not allow Tatia to provoke her. She reckons without Tatia's ability to slink her way under everyone's skin, her own notwithstanding; an unfortunate mistake.

"Caroline," Tatia singsongs, her voice a little trill that sets Caroline's nerves on edge. The blonde huffs, tossing her hair back as she shifts the weight of the water buckets teetering in her hands. "I was hoping that you may have seen Niklaus. He's been so busy with the preparations lately," a pretty pout graces Tatia's features, "he's had no time for me."

Caroline throws the girl an indigent glance, thoroughly unimpressed by the entire situation. "Seek him out yourself, Tatia."

"We never got a chance to finish what we started the other day, before you interrupted us," Tatia continues on as if Caroline hadn't said a word. "I'm hoping to send him away to his voyage with a proper farewell."

_Ignore her, just ignore her._ Caroline tries. She tries _so hard_.

"Am I making you angry, Caroline?" The question is posed so innocently, sung so sweetly.

"No," Caroline mutters through clenched teeth; not very convincing. "I'm busy."

"Look, Caroline, I think we both know that you and Niklaus will never work."

Caroline spins to face the dark-haired little vixen, eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?" And yes, she had been worrying over the same thing since the moment Finn showed up, but she'd be damned if she let this girl know that. Tatia smiles at her, and there's this devilish little glint in the girl's eyes; it sparkles and it gleams, strikes like poison from a snake.

"You're too…sweet for him," Tatia's nose wrinkles like she's just smelled something distasteful. "Nik needs a woman who understands who he _really_ is."

_She did _not _just call him Nik, she did not!_

"You're too good for him, Caroline."

Something in her snaps; breaks apart and unravels her from the seams, stirring a tornado of hatred that storms within her. Tatia can insult Caroline all she wants, but she does not get to say a _word_ about Nik. As if she knows him! Like she's some expert on the man that _Caroline_ has known for her _entire_ life. This – this woman! She came to her town and she took what belonged to Caroline,_ everyone_ knew that Nik belonged to her. He's hers, and he should have only ever known love and pleasure from _her_ arms. And he does deserve good, he _does_!

There's this primal sort of wave that rushes through her, makes her feel this urge to defend and protect. The water buckets fall unheeded to the ground, splashing her boots and soaking the hem of her dress. And with a hiss of rage, Caroline swings her hand back and then surges forward, slapping Tatia across her pretty little cheek.

Tatia cries out, fingers rising to touch her cheek, skimming over the red imprint left by Caroline's palm. Her eyes fly to Caroline's, filled for a moment with shock, as if she can hardly believe that anyone would dare touch her with such violence. And then her gaze narrows, and before Caroline quite knows what's happening Tatia throws herself forward, knocking the both of them to the ground as Tatia's hands strike against any surface they can find. A wild, uncouth little warrior; but Caroline holds her own.

They roll across the wet ground, grappling for dominance, mud forming beneath them thanks to the water from the buckets. When Tatia ends up on top, Caroline grabs a fistful of the mud, slopping it into her opponents face, blinding the girl for a moment as Caroline knees her fiercely in the gut. The brunette grunts, breathless for a moment, but that doesn't stop her fingers from gripping tufts of blonde curls and scraping her nails across Caroline's skin, bringing tears to her eyes.

The noise between them must be deafening; shrieks and cries and oaths of rage. It certainly brings two men running. One moment Caroline is biting Tatia's wrist in an attempt to get her hair released, and the next they're being pulled apart from each other, limbs flailing as they struggle to continue their fight.

Someone is pushing Caroline's hair back, out of her eyes, and she gazes up to see Kol hovering over her. "That was quite a bite," he teases, and for a moment he glances at her lips. "Remind me never to get on your bad side." Caroline tries to smile, but winces when it irritates the scrapes across her face.

Kol brushes a drop of blood from her chin, a look of concern crossing his features. "Are you all right?"

She never gets a chance to answer him; her attention is pulled to where Niklaus holds Tatia. Although _hold_ wouldn't really be the right term for it. Strangling is more like it.

Caroline's eyes widen when she sees the violence that trembles all across Nik's body. His fingers are wrapped around Tatia's throat, squeezing quite brutally if the purple hue that has taken over Tatia's features is any evidence. The brunette chokes, hands tugging uselessly at Nik's wrists, to which he pays no heed.

"You will _never_ touch Caroline again, do you understand me, Tatia?" Nik shakes the girl for added emphasis, and her whole body sort of just flops about like a fish out of water. When she can't answer him, he growls low in his throat, dragging her closer, and the look in his eyes is the most terrifying thing Caroline has ever seen. "Do you understand me?" The hiss of his voice is filled with murder.

It's almost intimate, the way Nik tilts his head towards his terrified victim, infiltrating her space with a promise of retribution, the way his eyes penetrate her as he tightens his fingers about Tatia's throat. She chokes, a pitiful sound, and gurgles something that sounds like an affirmative, but it's hard to tell. Nik's eyes hold hers for another moment as she gags and claws at his fingers, and then he nods, satisfied, and drops Tatia to the ground in a heap. And Caroline just stares at him as if she's never seen him before.

Nik turns to face her then, his whole body strained and trembling, and there's this look of death in his eyes that sends a shiver down her spine. Unconsciously, Caroline latches onto Kol's arm, curling towards him. When Nik takes a step in their direction, she shrinks away with a flinch.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, and though his eyes still bear a wild, crazed look about them, his voice is soft. Caroline nods hesitantly as Kol helps her to her feet.

"I'll see you home," Nik holds his hand out towards her, and her fingers tighten around Kol's arm. "We should –"

"I'll be fine," she interrupts him, her voice little more than a rasp, and clears her throat quickly. "Kol can keep me company."

Caroline keeps her eyes on Nik's fists as they walk away; notes with unease the way they clench and shake with barely restrained anger; doesn't dare look up to see the expression clouding his face.

* * *

He doesn't know what's wrong with himself; he's not sure why he did that. He's – he's never been violent with a woman before, even one as enraging as Tatia.

He felt like he could have killed her.

He almost _killed_ her. _Why_?

There's this feeling inside of him and it just keeps growing, right in the pit of his stomach. He's always angry, quick to incense, and it's just getting worse every single day. If someone looks at him the wrong way, he feels this maddening urge to rip their head off.

Caroline is scared of him. He saw it in her eyes; he frightened her. He doesn't want to frighten her – he would never hurt her. He would never – would he?

Dear gods, would he?

Is he becoming Mikael?

That's perhaps the worst part of it all; he just can't. He doesn't want to be like this – doesn't want to be like _him_.

But he's not sure how to fix it.

* * *

Tatia avoids both of them after that, which is quite fine with Caroline so long as she doesn't allow herself to dwell upon the particulars of the…incident. But more often than not, she finds herself laying in bed awake at night, remembering the grip of death she felt around Nik; as if Hel herself had deemed his body an appropriate vessel for her power. Caroline could almost taste her in the air, feel her upon her skin. Caroline is afraid for him, afraid of how much he's changing and the rage that seems to always eat away at him, like some voracious canker; every restless night she breathes a fervent prayer to the goddess Eir, that she might heal the anger that has festooned to his mind and bring him calmness. But still Caroline worries for him. Soon he'll be gone, and Odin knows how changed he may be when Nik returns to her.

On the eve of his departure, as she reflects upon her fears, Caroline knows that she can't possibly let him leave without saying farewell. She must put her petty resentment and hurt aside, and go to him before it's too late. Perhaps if she can impart on him just a glimmer of light, then maybe he can follow it back home to her and conquer the darkness that seems to swallow him more and more with each day.

(In those days she never realized, never dreamed of just how dark he would become. Darkness so consuming that even the brightest light is quenched, not even the barest glimmer left in a void barren of all human emotion and feeling. Perhaps if she had only tried harder, burned brighter for him…)

* * *

It's a full three days ride to the nearest village seaport. A boat belonging to their own village is docked there, its board paid for by the trading of goods that their men loot on their months long voyage. Both Elijah and Niklaus will be joining Finn and his band of able-bodied men, and already the horses have been tethered near the outskirts of the village, as the men gather and make last-minute adjustments. Caroline stands above them on a hillcrest, watching as Nik holds himself far apart from the rest, keeping silent, his hands caressing the soft muzzle of his steed.

He looks so solemn, so austere, with his taut shoulders and the frown that mars his face. So alone.

She wills him to glance her way, heart pounding and breathless, shaking with nerves now that this moment is finally upon them; but it seems to take ages before his gaze finally lifts and spots her figure in the distance. His shoulders grow stiffer as she beckons him towards her, as if he's been dreading this moment just as much as she has, and he throws a glance at the others before he heads in her direction. Caroline disappears beneath the hillcrest, to avoid the prying eyes of the other men and more specifically Mikael, who is present to bide farewell to his boys. He claps Finn's shoulder and shakes Elijah's hand with a grin on his face, but takes no notice of his younger son. That one, he ignores.

Caroline's breath sticks in her throat as Nik approaches, his expression somewhat wary.

"I thought you were still angry with me," he comments with feigned nonchalance. Caroline lifts her shoulder in a half-hearted shrug and looks away.

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye." The words almost stick in her throat too, just like her breath, just like her heart; they crumble like cracked clay as they fall from her lips, her voice dry and hoarse. She's been crying all morning, thinking about him being gone, for once too distracted to wonder at the constant nausea that churns in her belly. Her heart starts to thud as he steps closer, the rugged male scent of him wafting to her nose, calming her overwrought stomach even as her heart beats faster and faster.

The heat of his body washes over her, and then his fingers are at her chin, tipping her gaze up towards his. He doesn't say anything; he doesn't have to. Nik's eyes say it all. And as his forehead presses to hers and he softly noses her cheekbone, Caroline's eyes slide shut and everything inside of her just stutters to a halt.

She wants to beg him not to go; wants to plead with him to stay with her, Mikael be damned. She wants to tell him about the growing fear that is mounting in her heart, tied to the suspicions that she can't escape, the signs that all say…oh, she wants to tell him. She's so frightened; he'll be gone, and she'll left alone to face this by herself.

Caroline parts her lips, but Nik takes this as initiative to kiss her, fervently, desperately; his lips say goodbye. The little ball of light is on fire inside of her, breaking her apart, and she finally understands. She can't stop it, she won't stop it, even if it crushes her in the end. It's too late. So when they finally break apart, and she tries to bring the words back that she'd been desperate to say before, Caroline ends up confessing to something else entirely.

_I love you…_

And without allowing herself a final moment to see his face, or maybe (foolishly, impossibly) say anything back, Caroline spins about and races back to the village, just as the tears well up and spill over. She chases them away with a prayer to every god imaginable.

_Please, please let him return safely…_

(It wasn't him returning safely that she should have worried about.)

* * *

**_A/N:_** That's all she wrote, folks. This is the second longest chapter of the story so far, and I added some sexy times (again, you have Anne to thank for that, she convinced me), so hopefully that makes up for the long absence? Yes? No? You hate me? Are you even there? Hellooooooo?!

If you ARE still reading, drop me a line and give me your thoughts, or just rage at me for abandoning you all (SORRY!). I promise I won't take as long with the next chapter. And I promise, now that Klaus is temporarily away, the next chapter will have TONS of Kol, Rebekah, and (sob) Henrik.

ALSO. Don't freak out. I'm pretty sure you can all tell where I'm going with Caroline's condition (and a few of you worried over this happening in reviews). I promise that this isn't a happy thing or unnecessary fluff; this is actually the biggest angst plotline of the fic. Umm...basically, Caroline's "condition" will eventually turn into a graphic death. Yeah, from here on out almost nothing about the human era will be happy, except for perhaps a few tiny moments. Whoops. Hope you soaked up the last of the happiness properly!

Anyway so yeah. Hope you liked this or something. I agonized over it and worked really hard and I just want to please you *wags tail*

LOVE YOU ALL! THANKS!

**EDIT: **The beautiful, glorious Anne wrote a character sketch on the Tatia of this story, which sheds some more light on her (and will be explored some before her death), go read it guys cos it's great and it ties into this story. She's posted it to her tumblr, bkgrlrandomthoughts. Thank you Anne, I love you!


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